


Best Beloved

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), sciles - Fandom
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alpha Scott, Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Anal Fingering, Anal Gaping, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Apartment Life, Attempted Seduction, Barebacking, Best Friends, Birthday Presents, Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Car Sex, Children, Closet Sex, Come Shot, Come play, Confessions, Consolation, Creampie, Deepthroating, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Family Issues, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Food Kink, Food Porn, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Graduation, High School, Hot, Hotel Sex, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Indecent proposals, Jealous Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Jealous Stiles Stilinski, Jealousy, Jokes, Late Night Conversations, Lazy Mornings, Light Angst, Loss of Virginity, Loud Sex, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Melancholy, Moaning, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Moving In Together, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, New Colleagues, Non-Canon Relationship, Oral Sex, Parking Lot Sex, Pining, Post-Graduation, Post-Wedding, Reminiscing, Rimming, Sarcasm, School Dances, Semi-Public Sex, So much come it's not really inflation but Stiles can feel it slosh, Stakeout, Standing Sex, Stiles Stilinski Is So Done, Stiles showing a little dominant side, Stilinski Twins, Studying, Surprise Kissing, Surprises, Talking, Twins, Unexpected News, Unexpected Visitors, Virgin Stiles Stilinski, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, Worry, graduation party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Taking a few staggering steps forward, hands held out in front of him, Scott grabs Stiles’ face and kisses him. This first kiss is a press of soft flesh- warm and sweet. It settles like a sigh and Jesus if they don’t feel it in their wobbly knees._Stiles and Scott don't expect to express their love to one another in the Beacon Hills High School parking lot... but who plans for these things?
Relationships: Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, sciles - Relationship
Comments: 108
Kudos: 282





	1. Fragile Calm

**Author's Note:**

> I posted the first part of this story two years ago but then took it down. I rewrote the entire thing now that I have time being home (thanks COVID-19), and so I finally finished it. I decided not to wait and post two chapters but to just make it one long-ass story.  
> Enjoy these bois in love, it was fun to come back to this and do it proper!  
> *Update: the reaction has been amazing so it’s going to be a longer story.

The sun restores the cheerfulness to their moods after three loathsome days. Despite the crisp autumn temperatures, its heat breaking through the cloud lines is pleasant on their faces.  
For once the boys don’t have practice.  
Scott squints as he stares up at the welcome beams, the fresh tickle on the air invigorating.  
Now if he could only get a moment of quiet.  
  
Stiles hasn’t stopped talking since last bell. The words spill out of his mouth like confetti. Bless him, because Scott secretly loves it. There’s very little about Stiles’ little tics and unusual behaviors that doesn’t make the Alpha’s heart leap into his chest with affection.  
_And love._  
But that is a confession he isn’t ready to make to anyone… especially the object of these same feelings. (Not yet, anyway). He’s only recently come to terms with his sexuality, so that is already an enormous step in what isn’t a straightforward process.  
  
Today it isn’t annoyance with Stiles that shortens the leash on his patience, it’s just exhaustion. He hasn’t slept well and has been working more shifts at the clinic to help at home. The bills keep piling up and his Mom looks so tired from all those night shifts.  
The Alpha could use a break (and some silence!) so if he hears the word “party” one more time escaping Stile’s lips he will scream bloody murder.  
  
“So are you or are you not going to the party? Cuz you haven’t been exact in your answer, Scott.”  
And there it is again, Scott thinks. God help me.  
  
Stiles is gesticulating madly, cinnamon eyes flitting between his best friend and where he’s stepping next.  
The Alpha just stares at him, plump mouth in a crooked smile.  
“Stiles…”  
What’s the point? When he’s like this Stilinski doesn’t listen.  
He’s definitely being extra today…. and particularly spazzy. Scott picks up on every little quirk by now- the guy _is_ his best friend after all.  
  
“I need to know I won’t be there alone. I mean, I know I won’t be there _alone alone-_ ”  
Stiles realizes it he’s doing it by the way Scott’s forehead creases and the depth of his uneven sighs.   
But he can’t stop. He’s well aware he’s been nervous around the wolf lately- ever since he had a wet dream one night a few weeks back. Much came of that. First of all, he didn’t mind the sexy dream at all. Second, waking up to stained sheets and Scott’s name on his lips was a confirmation of what’d he’d been digesting for a while: he has a huge crush on his closest buddy. So much so he thinks he might be in love.  
  
Scott bends his sooty head, trying to avert his gaze from Stile’s busy mouth. His hand grasps his shoulder firmly over the soft curve.  
The reaction is twofold- Stiles glances at it strangely, as if it were some alien appendage that didn’t belong there but NEEDED to be there… its warmth immediately searing into his skin despite his flannel shirt.  
On the flip side, Scott’s eyebrows knit. He swallows hard.  
Neither can help but enjoy this unexpected touch.   
  
“Stiles. Stiles. CALM DOWN.”  
He doesn’t see it because he’s busy freaking out, but Scott’s black almond eyes fill with shifting stars.  
“Have you taken your meds?” he asks in a strained voice.  
Digits tighten their grip and Stiles moans low enough for Scott to pick up on the vibration.   
“Stiles, everything okay?”  
  
Oh my God! Stiles panics silently.  
Why does everything take on a clean brightness when Scott’s around?  
  
Running a hand through his chocolate locks, Stiles stops to draw a chest-expanding breath.  
He shakes his head.  
“To answer your questions in order, Scott: No, I haven’t taken them. I forgot them at home. And… um… yeah, everything’s great.” _If great is I’m in love with you and we’re best friends and I’m terrified I’m going to lose you if I tell you._  
Desperate to change the subject as his groin tightens and his pulse races, he returns to the argument at hand.   
“But listen about the party…”  
  
Scott realizes he’s been holding Stiles’ shoulder for a little too long. His arm drops. Stiles nearly whines in disappointment at the loss of touch.  
  
“Oh my god, Stiles… if you say party one more time…”  
  
The Alpha’s voice may be a crescendo, but he’s grinning like a fool. Stiles is so adorable when he’s anxious. Which is pretty much all the time, so yeah… Stiles is adorable all the time?  
  
Scott would be deceiving himself if he didn’t admit that he’s had strong feelings for the doe-eyed brunette. How fitting that his first boy crush is also his closest childhood friend.   
Sure, that’s easy to manage, right?  
  
“Yes. I’m going to the _party_ Stiles. I’m going to the stupid party. And I asked that new girl Brianne to come with me.”   
Stiles’ petal lips had curled into a smile at “Yes” and wither back down into a frown at “Brianne.”  
He takes a step back, snapping his head in offense.  
  
“BRIANNE? What kind of name is that?! That’s not a name, that’s a French cheese. Well thanks,” he throws his hands up. “Now I have to ask someone last minute so I don’t look like the lone wolf. No offense.”  
He waves away the afterthought.  
  
The only reason Scott didn’t ask Stiles is because he hasn’t come out yet. And is Stiles even gay or bi? No one knows him better, but this is something so deeply personal that not even Scott has had the courage to ask.  
Who can forget Stiles’ lifelong infatuation with Lydia, but then for a brief time he seemed taken with Derek Hale? This is a mystery, and despite not wanting to live in a world of labels, he needs to at least be certain there’s a chance before putting himself on the line like that.  
  
Scott scratches into his dark waves and bites his lower lip.  
“We’re not dating, Stiles. It’s just _a date._ ”   
  
A scent of disappointment and annoyance permeates the air between them.  
Stiles scoffs. “Yeah. Date with a French cheese. That will probably lead to more dates because she’s so desperate to be with the captain of the lacrosse team that–“   
  
Scott is wondering if his speculation is in vain. Is the actual reason behind Stiles’ fit precisely _the prospect of this being true?  
_Is he upset about being alone or is he upset that Scott is going with someone that _isn’t him_?   
Fuck it. Before he can stop himself, he blurts it out.  
  
“Stiles, did you want to go to this party _with me_?”   
Dark murky eyes scan his face in seriousness.  
No. The Alpha is not joking.  
  
It’s precisely the ray of hope he reads in his friend’s gaze that makes Stiles’ mouth paralyze, trapping the next sarcastic comment behind his teeth.  
It’s just agape now, open like he’s trying to catch a thrown Cheeto.   
  
“Wha? What?!”  
Scott meets his gorgeous eyes steadily, and despite his pounding heart he can’t and above all _doesn’t want to_ take back what he said.  
They’ve made it to Stiles’ jeep which is parked in the middle of the school parking lot and this conversation is happening _now_. Like it or not.  
  
“Stiles,” Scott’s voice drops to barely above a whisper. “Did you want to be my date to the party? Is this why you’re so upset?”   
  
Lips are moving, but nothing is coming out. Stiles is sure his pulse is racing so fast it looped back around to not thrumming at all.   
“Please say something, Stiles,” Scott wants to scream. “Stiles?”  
  
Scott has that goofy sad puppy look on his face and it’s taking all of Stiles’ will not to lunge and just kiss him.   
  
“Whyyyyy…” he drags out the word as he pulls on his ear “why would you ask me that? Do you want to be _my date_ to the party? I mean, is that a possibility? I mean… are you asking because it’s something you’d consider.. I mean…”   
  
Aaaannnd he’s back.  
“Stiles, Stiles… you’re babbling again. Stop.” Scott’s hand claims his shoulder once more.   
_Oh Holy God.  
_  
His best friend glues his lips shut and waits. Stiles’ body is visibly trembling, Scott can see it but also feel the sparks.  
Aside from the smell of crushed leaves and fireplaces burning wood, Scott picks up on something else.   
It’s strong enough to make his nostrils flare and his cock stir.  
_Arousal._  
Stiles likes him back, he was right!   
The Alpha has nothing to lose now. Sure, the parking lot after school isn’t the place he thinks he’d be coming out, but here goes everything.   
  
“Yes, Stiles. I would like to be your date to the party.” The calmness underlines he’s trying to calm the man in front of him in kind, (but also himself).  
“Going to the party with you is something very possible. If you want to.”  
  
Stiles’ redwood eyes saucer and he gasps.  
“Are you serious? This isn’t a prank? Because if this is a prank, Scott, it’s like extremely mean because you’d be just like Danny teasing me and that’s just cruel…”   
  
“OH MY GOD STILES!” all the words pitch an octave higher.  
Is Stilinski kidding him with this?!  
“This isn’t a prank! I like you, Stiles. Okay? Like… I _like you,_ like you.”   
  
Twisting his hands together, he kicks one converse into the other. Stiles rakes into his hair and makes a weird movement with his other hand.   
Jesus, _what are we in middle school?_ _Just tell me how you feel already!_  
  
Scott clears his throat, studying him from under half-closed lids.  
“Look, Stiles. What I mean is I’ve had feelings for you for a while. Romantic ones. I’m… I’m bi and you’re my first male crush. I just wasn’t sure about your feelings… if you were…”  
He leaves that hanging there.  
  
“Of course. Of course I want to! Of course. I mean, I’m just…. “ Stiles takes a few seconds as it all sinks in. It’s like he’s incredulous, mouth opening and closing like a fish desperate for the sea out of which he’s been plucked.  
  
Scott advances a couple inches. “I’d really like to go to the party with you and not Miss French Cheese so if you still want to–“  
Stiles’ ashen expression worries Scott. He looks like he’s about to pass out. “You okay?”  
  
Stiles nods. Gives me a smile that sends his pulses wild and when Stiles sucks in his pert lip so hard it throbs…  
“I like you, Scott. Romantically and otherwise. I have for a while. I was just afraid to tell you, too. I didn’t know how you’d react and we’re best friends and we’ve never even discussed ..”  
  
Suddenly the people passing them by disappear. It’s like a spotlight has been shone only on them and the rest is a darkened stage.  
Scott figures Stiles will never shut up. Ever. And he wouldn’t have him any other way.  
  
Taking a few staggering steps forward, hands held out in front of him, Scott grabs Stiles’ face and kisses him. This first kiss is a press of soft flesh- warm and sweet. It settles like a sigh and Jesus if they don’t feel it in their wobbly knees.  
  
There are still students mulling around the parking lot, and someone nearby cheers. A moment later they hear a penetrating voice.  
“Stilinski! McCall! I always knew you two were gay for each other. Congratulations, boys! You’ve made Coach proud!”  
  
Finstock. Finstock driving past in his crappy car at the precise moment of Scott and Stiles’ first kiss.  
Outstanding.  
For a moment they break apart to acknowledge him, awkwardly waving. Bobby mutters, “Atta boy, Stilinski…” and with a wink pulls out of the lot.  
  
“Great,” Scott hides his smile between pursed lips. “Now even Coach knows.”   
“Well,” Stiles shrugs, lips still burning from the contact, “our bad for doing this here.”  
Raising a finger to the air, he smirks. “Speakin of…”  
  
A second later, they crash into each other again. Oblivious to their surroundings, Stiles deepens the kiss, smothering their mouths with such demand their noses scrunch.   
Scott’s plump lips cover Stiles, sucking whatever he can, tongue slick as it explores the gap of their mouths.  
  
Someone from afar yells, “Get a room!”

This shakes them back into reality. It’s when the Alpha growls that Stiles perceives the hardness against his thigh. Very close to his own growing sex.  
Both interrupt the kiss. It’s getting dangerously hot, and this was entertainment enough for a crowd of high schoolers (and their Coach, who will give them shit for this on Monday).  
  
Scott is smiling widely, lips bruised and slick.  
“Well, we got the first kiss out of the way. Should be less awkward now.”   
  
The ache in his throat is making it hard to speak.  
“I vote we do that again as soon as possible. That was amazing.”   
  
Scott agrees, his insides twisted up into a knot. “We can. We will. And we have a lot to talk about. Unfortunately, I’m already late to the vet clinic, Stiles.” Baby. He was about to call him baby!  
The distraction is to check his watch.   
  
“Yeah, it is getting late. I promised my Dad I’d drop by the station on the way home. So… um…. Just to clarify… we are going to that party or are you still taking French Cheese?”   
  
The Alpha chuckles, holding his belly so the butterflies don’t escape.  
“I am most definitely not taking French Cheese. Wanna take my bike, pick you up at 9?”   
Stiles grabs Scott by the collar and pulls him close, just enough space between them for a love declaration.  
Two watery orbs fixate on Scott’s superlative mouth.  
“Perfect. I’ll have an excuse to squeeze you tightly from behind. See you at 9, Scottie boy.”   
  
Scott wants to memorize every bit of Stiles Stlinski. He could kiss him again and again and again but…  
“Yup. See you then.”  
Oh, screw it. So he’ll be a minute late.  
Their tongues dance once more, more chastely now, and then it’s over.  
  
Stiles pushes off with a sharp breath, panting as he adjusts his shirt. (He’d like to adjust something else but… that can wait for the car).  
“Any more of that, Scott, and I’m gonna cum in my pants.”  
“Wow, I must be good then….” Scott jokes, winking.  
God, he can be such a dork sometimes, which is exactly why Stiles loves him.  
Wait… he does. He LOVES HIM!  
  
They take forever to say goodbye- lingering gazes and Stiles dropping his car keys twice before nearly tripping on his own feet as he climbs into the car.  
The Alpha wonders how long it will be before his entire body will simmer in longing. Stiles keeps fighting off visions of them in his bed.  
  
As Stiles drives to the station, a painful erection his keepsake from the afternoon, he marvels at how they’ve just fallen into this so naturally. The kiss, the second kiss… the assumption they can be physically already so in tune…  
That’s perhaps what happens when two people who have known each other their whole lives finally fall in love.   
But then again, this is his first rodeo, so he’s more than willing to find out what all this bliss can be like.  
  
\- -  
  
At the station a few minutes later, the sheriff’s son is more than enthusiastic. Parrish doesn’t fail to notice.  
  
“What’s up with you, Stiles? You win the lotto or something?”  
His Cheshire grin can’t be contained. “Nope. Just happy.”  
The deputy isn’t convinced but lets it go, mostly because he doesn’t care to get mixed up in high school drama.  
“Okay, Stiles. You do you. Your Dad’s waiting for you, he’s in the office.”  
  
Almost skipping inside, Stiles finds the Sheriff hunched over case files, his signature frown especially heavy today.  
  
“Hey Dad,” he beams in stark contrast to the mood in the room.  
Noah’s face registers shock when he sees his son so chipper.  
“What’s going on, Stiles? What’s with the grin? Have you been smoking pot?”  
Stiles guffaws, two palms defensively popping up in front of his chest. “No, I swear to God. I’m just happy, Dad. I can’t be happy?!”  
“No. My son isn’t usually happy. What’s going on?”  
  
Stiles drops into the chair opposite his father but then bounces up and down like a toddler. Noah notes he’s probably forgotten his meds.  
  
“I’ve got a date, Dad. And you won’t believe with whom. And HE LIKES ME BACK!”  
Noah cracks a crooked smile, the laugh lines curling up under the apples of his cheeks.  
“I’m happy for you, son. Who’s the lucky guy?”  
“I’ve got a date with Scott,” Stiles replies.  
  
Silence. It’s almost as shocking as a shot in the middle of the night.  
Noah inhales and lets the air out with a “pfff.”  
“You like Scott? You’re dating?” There’s a lilt to the end of the question. Something weird in the tone. Stiles’ normal persona takes over: Enter panic mode NOW, Stiles thinks.  
  
“Yeah, why? Dad? What’s that tone mean? I mean this will be our first date but yeah we like each other.”  
Noah puts his pen down and rubs his tired eyes with his thumb and index finger.  
“Oh Jesus.”  
  
Now the panic meter that normally keeps Stiles in check has stopped functioning completely. He’s nearly hyperventilating, his lungs constricted.  
“DAD?! What are you trying to tell me?”  
  
Noah’s forehead furrows and his vale eyes look everywhere but at Stiles.  
“Son, I’ve been dating Melissa for the past two months.”  
  
It’s difficult to count the exact number of expressions that Stiles’ face can morph into.  
Utter and total disbelief floods over him.  
“What?! When? I never see you go out!”  
The statement is terse and pitchy.  
  
His father deflates at seeing just how disconcerted this is making his son.  
“She and I usually both work nights so we’ve gone on dates while you were at school. I was going to wait to tell you about it since we know you boys are best friends… and on our end we wanted to be sure.”  
  
Noah puts an emphasis on _friends._ “But it’s going really well and…”  
  
Stiles feigns gagging.  
“Oh my god. OH MY GOD. If you and Melissa marry, then Scott and I are stepbrothers and we’ve already kissed DAD JESUS CHRIST WE’VE ALREADY KISSED… I think I’m gonna be sick.”  
  
The sheriff’s son, known for his meltdowns, is having probably the biggest one of his life.  
Noah circles the desk and hugs his son, kneeling down at his knees.  
  
“Two months? I can’t breathe, Dad. I can’t… “  
Stiles is wheezing, eyes popping out of his head.  
“Oh my god, you’ve had sex. It’s been two months, of course you’ve had sex. Oh my god…”  
  
Noah covers his son’s arms with his own and shakes them.  
“Stiles… Stiles… breathe, son. Nobody said anything about marriage. She and I are getting along, true, but I’m not marrying anybody anytime soon.”  
  
Stiles’ chestnut hair sprouts from between his fingers as he sways back and forth.  
“Oh my god, Dad, can’t you see how creepy this is now? How can I date Scott when you’re dating his mom?”  
  
Noah bites into his lip, his moss eyes draining of their brilliance.  
“Son, I’m sorry. I don’t think it’s an issue if we don’t make things more serious. And even then. You’ve known Scott your entire life. This makes sense. What’s the harm in dating him? And even if I married Melissa… you’re not blood brothers. You’re two adults, almost. Nobody would care and it isn’t your fault she and I are in love. This is just poor timing.”

“IN LOVE? You’re in LOVE with her? Oh god. Dad… “ he whines.  
  
The sheriff grabs Stiles by the wrists and wags them gently.  
“Stiles… look at me. It’s okay. _It will be okay_.”  
  
Stiles shakes his head, tears welling.  
“I have to talk to Scott. I have to. I don’t know what to do. Excuse me, Dad, I need to go to the clinic right now. Thanks for being honest with me, though.” He’s rambling, scampering to get his things.  
“I’ll let you know what happens. Right now I just have to be with Scott.”  
  
Noah stands with his arms limp at his sides, despondent.  
“I’m sorry, son. If you can’t get past this, I’ll consider breaking it off. But I like her. It’s been so long since I found a nice woman I could talk to and connect with.”  
  
Oh, great. Now Stiles feels like a piece of shit. His shoulders slouch, backpack hanging off one shoulder.  
“No, Dad,” he mutters. “You’re not breaking anything off. You deserve to be happy. If anything, I won’t date Scott. But let me talk to him first, see how he feels about it. I have to go, Dad. I’m kinda freaking out so…”  
  
Noah latches on to Stiles and pulls him close. His large, rough hand ruffles his son’s hair.  
“It’ll work out, son. I promise you. You deserve to be loved just as much. Scott’s a smart kid, I’m sure this won’t be an issue.”  
Stiles sniffles and dips his head. “I hope so, Dad. I hope so. I love you.”  
“Love you too, son.”  
  
As he walks out, Parrish immediately notices the change in demeanor.  
“Hey Stiles, I leave you for 15 minutes and now you’re crying? What happened?”  
Parrish knows. He heard it all.   
Stiles waves him off. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you, Jordan. Just the usual luck I have in life. See you later, I really need to get going.”  
His legs feel heavy and lifeless as he drags himself out.  
  
Parrish watches him disappear past the door.  
“Poor kid can’t catch a break.”  
_  
  
Stiles keeps fidgeting with the collar of his flannel shirt when he gets to the clinic.  
Why is the tag so itchy of all a sudden?!  
His hands are all clammy and he’s pretty sure his face is bright red if the flush to his cheek is any sign.  
He storms into the building, wondering why all the Gods in the universe seemed to be against him having any kind of solid happiness.  
All Stiles is able to think about is how the world seemed to have the funniest timing. Haha my life SUCKS!

“Goddammit,” Stiles mutters to himself as he eyes the empty desk in front of him, thinking Scott is probably out the back.  
“Scott?”

  
“Stiles! I didn’t know you were coming over.”  
Appearing at his side like he just materialized, Stiles finds Scott standing there with a gleaming smile and eyes that literally twinkle.  
He looks so cute in his white coat, a vision of what will one day be his reality for sure… it warms Stiles to the prospect of a future. Maybe together.  
It almost makes Stiles take an awkward step back, his lips parting to let out a content hum at how freaking adorable Scott is, and then he realises – _oh_.  
There’s a reason Stiles came over, and not a pleasant one.

“Hey,” Stiles tilts his head. He sounds defeated and he knows it, because he sees the way Scott’s face immediately darkens.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Scott asks softly. “Are you alright?”  
Oh, shit. _Baby_. He said it!

Stiles heard it. And it would have evoked the most amazing of reactions from him if he wasn’t wallowing in utter despair.  
“Not really.” The confession bends and twists in Stiles’ mouth before he really has the chance to keep it to himself.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

The clinic is empty since it’s close to five, and Stiles uses the quiet space to vent.  
“I went to see my Dad.”  
One heavy eyebrow slants in concern.  
“Is he okay? Did something happen to him?”  
  
Stiles scrunches up his nose, rubbing his chin.  
“Oh he’s more than okay,” he huffs, looking up at the ceiling.  
“Did you know that your mom and my dad have secretly been seeing each other? Did you know that they’re dating? And that my dad loves your mom? And that they’re probably going to have a million babies, and those babies will be our little brothers and sisters, because you and I are going to be brothers now, Scott. BROTHERS.”  
  
The increasing flow of his words and the deep creases edging his mouth make Scott understand this is turning into another rant.  
“And of course,” he’s nearly shouting now, “as soon as you and I tell each other how we really feel, all of this happens. The universe hates me. It _hates_ me, Scott. It wants me to suffer.”  
Stiles is speaking bitterly and dramatically all at once, his face buried in his hands as he shakes his head.

“Whoa, hey, calm down,” Scott whispers, his warm hands wrapping around Stiles’ neck.  
“I hear you… but why are you freaking out?”

“Did you not understand what I just said?” Stiles snaps.

“I did… But I don’t get why you’re so mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Well, you ARE kind of screaming at me right now.”

“I am not _screaming_ at you, Scott.” Okay, as it echoes in the empty building he realizes he IS in fact hysterical.   
  
“I’m allowed to be pissed about this whole thing, aren’t I?”

He’s rocking back and forth, and all Scott can think of doing is stifling his tirade with a kiss.  
Their foreheads touch when they break, Stiles’ breathing less choppy.

“That was low, Scott,” Stiles says with a smirk. “Using your wily charms like that.”

Scott rubs into the back of his head.  
“Feel better now? See? No wrath of god upon us or lightning bolts smiting us. Should they have told us? I dunno. Maybe they didn’t know how we’d react, so they just kept it to themselves until they worked out _how_ to let us know.”

Nodding slowly, Stiles hugs himself.  
“It’s not weird for you? What if they marry?”  
  
The Alpha shakes his head. “Doesn’t bother me in the least. We’re not blood brothers, we can’t control what our parents do. Doesn’t mean we can’t like each other, not in my eyes anyway.”  
“That’s what my Dad said.”  
“See? He’s a smart man, listen to him.”  
  
Stiles tosses his gaze this way and that before landing on his love’s.  
“I guess you’re right.”  
“I know I am.”  
“So do you still want me, Scott?” There’s an ache, a longing behind the question that tears through him.  
  
“Of course I want you,” Scott scoffs. _If you only knew how much._ “You think this changes anything? You think I’ll want you less because of this? We’re not brothers, Stiles. We’re not. Full stop.”

“But… But I just… I just feel like you’re not gonna be okay with this eventually,” mutters Stiles, the corners of his mouth dropping.  
“Maybe one day you’ll see your mom with my dad and you’ll just… You’ll want to be with someone else… Someone that’s easier to date, and not someone who’s the son of the guy your mom fucks every Friday night. Because by the way… barf alert… they’ve already done it. A lot.”

There’s almost a deafening silence between the two of them, and Stiles thinks he’s really put his foot in it now.  
Preparing himself for Scott, maybe shoving him out of the building and saying yeah, you’re right, see ya later, it’s over before it began…  
  
But that doesn’t happen. Instead Stiles feels comforting fingers snaking up and down his arms.  
It makes Stiles shudder, this unexpected gentleness… and then he just falls into Scott’s muscular arms, face buried in his neck with a soft whimper.  
  
“Oh baby.”  
Scott had always, _always_ felt comforting and warm and inviting, and that’s exactly what he feels like as Stiles circles his limbs around the other boy.

“I’m scared you won’t want me anymore,” Stiles whispers. “It’d be so much easier to just give up and find someone who’s not me. You might want to leave me. You might just not want to try anymore before we even really got the chance to be together properly.”

Scott clutches him more tightly. What more can he do?  
“I don’t want anyone who’s not you. I want you, Stiles. I’ve always wanted you, and I always will. This doesn’t change a thing. I promise you. It doesn’t bother me and it shouldn’t bother you. You’re mine now, and I’m all yours, and we’ll always be together no matter what happens. I promise you that- I’m not going anywhere. I promise you,” Scott insists, his voice a soothing and soft rumble. “I still want you. I still want you with everything in me.”

“You… you mean that?” Stiles stutters, blinking back tears. 

“Yes, of course I mean it. I’ll always want you, just as long as you want me. Do _you_ want me?”

Stiles can’t help but let out a stifled chuckle, wiping the drops away with his thumb.  
“Trust me, Scott, you never, ever have to ask that question.”  
“Okay, so let’s just forget all about this and go to the party tonight. Have a few drinks and make it special. It’s our first date, you know.”  
  
Drawing something invisible on Scott’s hip, he nods against him.  
“It is, isn’t it? Okay… okay…” he sniffles.  
“So I’ll pick you up at nine, _baby_?”  
  
Heart still caught somewhere between love and anguish, he slides the hand over slightly to the right and grazes Scott’s groin.  
“I caught that, Scottie boy. Don’t think I didn’t.”  
  
Pecking him on the lips, his expression is one of self-satisfaction.  
“Sure you don’t just want to skip the party?”  
Stiles asks with a mischievous grin playing on his lips.  
  
If eyes could make love with intensity, this would be foreplay. His Adam’s apple bobs.  
“Stiles, we’re going to the party. But tell your Dad you’re sleeping over at my house tonight.”  
Two can play this game, Scott thinks, their closeness lulling him to euphoria.  
  
_

The party was fun, but Stiles is a little thankful that it’s over, especially since Scott had already decided they were going to have a “sleepover.”  
Noah didn’t protest at the request, also because with his new arsenal of knowledge he felt less concerned about the situation.  
Regardless of what might happen, no one was getting pregnant and apparently werewolves couldn’t spread diseases so… let boys be boys. Stiles was already past the age that Noah himself had lost his virginity…he buried his fatherly instincts and decided to trust in his son’s common sense.  
Besides, with the boys at Melissa’s… she was free to stay the night at Noah’s. (A fact that was plain but that he mercifully omitted from his speech to Stiles, not wanting to freak his son out anymore than necessary).

_

  
The boys have the house to themselves. They’re both giggling as Scott pulls Stiles into his bedroom.  
They’ve had a couple beers and a shot each. Scott isn’t feeling the alcohol, but he is definitely picking up on all the scents in the room which are inebriating to a wolf.

Contrary to his expectations, it’s Stiles who presses Scott up against the wooden door, his tongue testing his mouth with a muffled moan.  
Stiles’ hands quickly land in Scott’s curls, tugging at the silky locks with a gentle pull.  
“Stiles…” Scott growls, the sound coming from deep within his belly.  
Scott’s grinding into Stiles and his boyfriend is very quickly feeling himself limp with need.  
He’s certain his skin is ablaze as Scott pulls off his tee and shoves it to the floor with a kick of his shoe.  
Stiles’ follows suit, dropping with a hush of fabric at their feet.  
Scott’s hands map Stiles’ bare arms and chest.  
It feels nice, this intimacy. It feels _really_ nice. And knowing they won’t be disturbed…

Scott has the sneaking suspicion that Stiles wants to lose his virginity tonight. He’s been throwing not-so-subtle hints all evening.  
And though that’s an enormous responsibility, knowing he loves Stiles and that he would be gentle and make sure he enjoys it as much as possible… Scott thinks it would be an honor.  
It’s not like Scott McCall has ever done it before with a man, but he’s gathered that Stiles would want to bottom or at least experiment… in a way it’s a first for them both.

Stiles pulls away from Scott’s mouth, smiling warmly at him. “I’m so glad we got past that other shit.”

Their lips are that breath apart that makes every molecule moving between them sensitize every nerve ending.  
“I know, baby. Me too.”  
  
Scott’s nostrils flare- he’s drunk on Stiles’ natural scent and the visceral need that oozes the arousal from his pores.  
Pretty certain he’s never met anyone with a body like Scott’s… maybe Jackson’s or Danny’s, but they’re different, and wanting to confirm, Stiles continues his exploration.  
While his other classmates are too angled, too craggy… Scott is like a puppy- soft and inviting and warm, yet big and strong all at once. It may not make sense but right now little is making sense to love-drugged Stiles.   
It makes him mewl into Scott’s mouth, this nearness, Scott's scent... his fingers clawing into his skin as Scott pulls him away from the door.  
  
Stiles lands on the bed with a soft exhale while Scott sinks to the floor, still kissing at the other boy eagerly.  
Scott’s hands are on Stiles’ cheeks while their tongues fight into each other’s mouths, the muscles dancing together wildly until Scott drops his shaky hands to the zipper of Stiles’ jeans.  
  
Stiles stiffens. Shit. This is it.  
His belly is quivering.. energy sailing over his skin.  
He doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He did some “research” with porn but that is so different from being here in an unlit room with the guy who’s about to pop your cherry.  
All he knows is that he wants to touch Scott and be touched by him. _Now_.  
The intensity of Scott’s gaze tightens his muscles into a roll he feels in his toes.  
“Stiles,” Scott rests his chin on his thigh, fingers still hovering over his growing bulge. His watery eyes blink up like two chocolate spheres- that are slowly tinging red. “Do you want to?”  
  
Jesus, does he!?  
The carnal assault on his senses is too much! He needs Scott to take him. Everything is tingling and throbbing at the same time.  
  
“I’ve never done it, Scott,” he confesses, even though he’s aware that Scott knows everything about him.  
“You know that. But I want you to be my first.”  
  
His tongue sliding along the crevice of Scott’s lips should be confirmation enough.  
“I want to be your first, too” Scott moans through the fog of desire, the hunger ripping through him.  
Stiles guides his hands… pulls down the zipper along with him and licks his lips when he sees his engorged cock pop out.  
It’s like something from out of a porno. Scott can’t believe it. Thick, veiny… at least eight inches just judging from how much sticks out past his hand when Scott grabs the base.  
The Alpha had no idea his friend was this well-endowed! He’s seen him in the showers but none of his teammates were ever in there with erections.

The scent of his sex tickling his nose is enough.  
It’s enough.  
Scott goes by instinct, he can’t help it when he lowers himself and licks at the glistening tip.  
Stiles jerks his hips in reaction, just about cums then and there at the way Scott says his name.

“Stiles, _fuck_ , baby” Scott sibilates from above his swollen member. His voice is gravelly deep and laced with desire.

“Jesus Christ, Scott…”  
The gasps and tiny moans Stiles is emitting, his ragged breath, makes him suck that much more urgently.  
He’s lapping at the round head, past the foreskin, and that’s when he parts his honey lips, swallowing his entire length. Pubes deep, he gurgles…  
Scott chokes a little at first, not used to the feeling of having something so big and thick in his mouth, but it feels like heaven on his end and Stiles’ head thrown back like that, skin prickling from the undercurrent of sexual awareness overcoming him… makes his own cock (which was already raging) shoot up to its full glory.

“Oh, God, Scott,” Stiles hums, daring to twist into his lover’s hair and just gently ease his head further down. “Mm, just like that, baby. Just like that…”

Scott whimpers at that word, baby… maybe even breaks a little. Coming from Stiles’ needy mouth, that tone of begging behind it… shit.  
It makes him pump his mouth faster and harder. His tonsils play with Stiles’ cock head, and when he slides him into the first part of his throat, eyes watery and a hint of his girth swelling Scott’s throat visibly…  
Stiles can’t hold it together anymore. His sex twitching between his lover’s lips, he can feel that familiar heat rise… and that’s when Stiles pulls Scott off.   
He was about to come and HARD… he doesn’t want this to end so soon. He’s never tested his stamina before, not with another person… so what if he…if they ...  
  
“Fuck me, Scott,” Stiles’ breath doused in desire warms the spot on Scott’s neck where he sucks in a second later. “Please fuck me.”  
“Oh Jesus,” Scott comes apart at the soft drag of Stiles’ tongue against his flesh. And here comes the seep of pre-come.  
  
Scott grabs at Stiles’ hips, yanking the boy up until he’s safely on the bed. Stiles lands on his stomach somehow, and he buries his face into his pillow as he feels Scott yanking down his pants and boxers.  
The boy is a mess, shivering in need beneath him as Scott grabs his ass cheeks, kissing at Stiles’ supple skin with a moan. He spreads them enough to show the puckered opening… to which he gives long luscious licks.

“You’re so beautiful,” Scott whispers, still lapping. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”  
The feel of his muscle dabbing _there_ and the incandescence of Scott’s body on his… Stiles just surrenders to his desire.  
  
“I want you,” he breathes.  
“I want you more.” The sweet words purring from Scott’s lips make Stiles grab at his pillow, still feeling his entire body quake in ache.  
“Then take me, Scott.”  
  
He rolls over in time to see Scott shimmie out of his bottoms. When they’re both naked, Scott crawls on all fours onto the bed, almost like the wolf he is, and the mattress dips with their weight.  
Stiles’ cock brushes up against Scott’s. WHAT?!  
Neither has anything to envy in seeing the other’s dick. Just slightly larger than Stiles’… and no less magnificent... Scott’s bounces against his lateral V spot.   
“Oh holy god,” Stiles exclaims… his jaw dropping. “I...”  
“Let’s say nature blessed us both,” Scott quips, winking, as he tightens a hand around it.   
  
Stiles’ body arches for him, a slink from his slim waist gliding up to him - lifting his legs up and nudging his lover… reminding him ...   
“Fuck me, Scott…” he repeats.  
“Oh Jesus Stiles when you say it like that…”  
  
He falls onto him a moment later, their tongues merging once more in a sweet tangle of desire.  
As they’re kissing Scott slides open his drawer, extracting a tube of lube and a condom.  
Stiles looks over when he hears the top click and the cold gel hit his rear.  
Hot muscles spasms coil into tightness in his groin. He’s not far off.  
  
“Lube yes…” he whispers, eyes pinning. “Condom no.”  
  
Fisting his huge, aching erection, Scott coats it as well.  
“Are you sure, baby?” he says the words between tugs that make him marble hard. It’s what he was hoping for- on some primitive level to mark Stiles as his. But he wasn’t going to force the choice on him.   
“I’m sure.” Stiles needs to speed this up. “I want to feel you come inside me. I trust you, Scott, and I want to be yours. I… I love you.”  
  
Scott grabs at Stiles’ cheeks, plying them apart as he passes two slick fingers over, and then into, Stiles’ tight asshole.   
There’s a hiss but it doesn’t speak of pain.   
  
He heard the words. He did. His heart lurched and Christ he’s never been this happy in his life. Stiles... he loves him.   
Choking on emotion, his ‘me too’ is still lodged in this gullet. 

”I saw that I have to open you a bit. Try to relax, baby, just breathe deep. It will help the rest.”

“I love you, baby,” Stiles reiterates as he spreads even more for him. “I trust you.”

How can he not say it back now?   
“I love you, too, Stiles.” _With all I am._

Perhaps an odd time to make that declaration when he’s knuckle deep in his best friend’s anus- or not. Seeing as how Scott is the first person to share this level of sexual intimacy with him, perhaps it’s fitting it’s said in his most vulnerable moment.   
In fact, immediately after, all tension from Stiles’ body disappears.   
_  
  
Scott is a gentle and patient lover. It’s his first time with a man, too, so the sensations are all new and… utterly delicious.  
“If it hurts too much, Stiles, please tell me to stop. I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
Tunneling slowly inside the muscle, past the stubborn barrier, Stiles breathes into the stretch of Scott’s thickness as it progresses.  
“Okay, Scott,” Stiles winces. “Go deeper. I can take it.”  
  
Fuck does the slick sound of Scott hilting and his accompanying growl wring the hunger for Alpha cock from Stiles. His legs splay and his ass seeks more, inching back.  
“Move, baby… please move,” Stiles beseeches, head to one side and fingers curled into the bunching sheets below.  
  
The intoxicating warmth that is Stiles’ sex, spreading all over Scott’s cock as he drags his shaft in and out… it doesn’t take long for both to be moaning in ecstasy.

The easy tease of his rod- and the hands roving over his body ... shit!   
Stiles’ hands ball into the sheets, muffling his laments by biting down into his pillow lips. He doesn’t need to… there’s nobody home… but it’s such a sensual feeling he’d feel ridiculous screaming.  
  
Scott fucks him slowly, carefully, pulling back whenever his sounds of pleasure edge towards pain.  
Neither boy lasts long, thanks to the buildup and Scott’s tender mouth having worked Stiles before.  
  
It’s a matter of minutes before Scott’s sweat-coated muscles pull him upright, straightening his spine.  
“Baby, baby I’m coming,” Scott forces the words through clenched teeth as his eyes shine red.   
“Ohhh fuuuuucccckkk!”

Stiles cinches down, wringing spasm after spasm from Scott’s cock, the Alpha emptying his thick come in a groin-searing orgasm.  
  
His lover is on the verge of spilling into his hand, his soft flesh wrapped around his steely hardness as he milks himself…and almost at the same time as Scott, release consumes him.  
“Scott Scott FUCK!”   
Most of the fountaining glaze spurts white hot onto Stiles’ chest and stomach as his eyes pale, rolling into the back of his head.  
  
The scent of their lovemaking hangs in the air. It’s thick and sweet like honey and morning dew.

The Alpha pulls out, his half hard sex coated in Stiles’ slick and ribbons of his own jizz.  
A long rivulet of pearly grey seed pours out of Stiles’ gaping hole and plops onto the bedsheet.  
  
Stiles is still overwhelmed with the most delicious feeling of being stretched out and stuffed with his lover’s cock. His body can only cling onto the surrounding bedding.

“You felt so good,” Scott nips into Stiles’ creamy neck when he writhes up against him.  
His body is still saturated with lust… the pleasure they both felt disorienting. “God, baby, you felt so good, “ he can’t stop rambling. “So tight, Stiles. I’ve never had an orgasm like that… Jesus. But I… I didn’t hurt you, did I?”  
  
Hurt me? Stiles wants to say. Grabbing his chin and bringing him close, he shakes his head.  
“No, Scott. It was perfect. You were perfect. I love you.”  
It’s a mix of tenderness and adoration that brings their bodies to cleave again.  
“I love you. God, I love you so much,” Scott murmurs. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”  
Scott says as he peppers kisses on Stiles’ face. “And I mean it, baby. I love you. I love you and I always will.”  
  
With his cheek resting on his hand, angling to meet Scott’s face, he’s absolutely beaming.  
Scott cranes his neck and gives Stiles a soft kiss on the lips, and then Stiles literally feels his heart thrum in his chest. He has never had a night so goddamn perfect. Maybe nothing will ever top this… but they can certainly try. 


	2. Winter Formal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Different from the gold and purple of the autumn sunsets when their love first bloomed, tonight’s is faintly tinged with cold crimson. It’s so deep it looks like the sky is bleeding. Soon, the star-flecked dark will be their mighty canopy.  
> The air is fresh. It has the nip of winter that sticks into exposed flesh like cold needles.  
> Stiles bounces from one foot to the other, fists dug deep into his padded jacket.  
> It’s a deep red as well, his coat. Almost as if the sky wanted to challenge who wears it better.  
> There’s no doubt it’s Stiles. Red suits him. It’s the same shade that also tinges Scott’s eyes when they make love.  
> Like roses and rubies and raw blood.  
> _  
> It's almost three months into the boys' relationship and they decide to attend the winter formal together. (Not before a sexy pit stop, though).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so there's an escalation of sexiness- and I've decided this needs at least one more chapter. What can I say? The story has me hooked. Hope you're okay with that. :)

Different from the gold and purple of the autumn sunsets when their love first bloomed, tonight’s is faintly tinged with cold crimson. It’s so deep it looks like the sky is bleeding.  
Soon, the star-flecked dark will be their mighty canopy.  
  
The air is fresh. It has the nip of winter that sticks into exposed flesh like cold needles.  
Stiles bounces from one foot to the other, fists dug deep into his padded jacket.  
It’s a deep red as well, his coat. Almost as if the sky wanted to challenge who wears it better.  
There’s no doubt it’s Stiles. Red suits him. It’s the same shade that also tinges Scott’s eyes when they make love.  
Like roses and rubies and raw blood.  
  
“Hurry up, Scott, I’m freezing my balls off.” The words are brought to life in tiny white puffs.  
His uneasy feet swivel, the new dress shoes his father bought him glossy under the low lamplight that suspends in a tiny lantern above the door.  
Room 24. Butt end of the motel. The murder rooms some call it.  
  
“I’m trying, Stiles. It won’t go in.”  
Scott fumbles with the key, its metal gelid between his shaky fingertips. Every push into the groove seems only to make the tip stick.  
“I think it’s so cold it’s shrunk.”  
“Now you’re just serving them to me on a silver platter, Scott,” Stiles smirks.  
“Yeah yeah… Small shrunken dick… I never have trouble finding the hole. Got it. Can you, can you move over because I think you’re shadowing the lock and I can’t see…”  
A second later it fits and the mechanism turns.  
The door yawns open and Scott sighs in relief.  
  
A part of this twitchiness is urgency. Want.  
Another is a touch of elation at the idea that they’re finally doing this. The _naughty_ thing Stiles has been dreaming about for weeks.  
The door shuts to the elements and they find themselves wrapped in a welcoming heat.  
Stiles turns on his heel to face Scott, jacket already thrown onto the battered desk, sending pamphlets for nearby takeout restaurants flying to the floor.  
  
The room is dark, only the soft filter of the lamplight drizzling in through the cheap curtain and dappling the floor below it. Scott doesn’t need illumination to read the “come-and-get-me” look in his love’s eyes.  
Scott drops the key in the same place, and its metallic clang hitting the wood echoes in time to Stiles drawing the night drape shut along rusting rungs.  
It’s enough for them to be bathed in darkness and for Scott to have freed himself of his coat.  
  
Stiles is eager. He always is for Scott.  
His stare heats his skin. The Alpha’s eyes, for the moment, are still like wet bark after a storm. But soon enough, when he’ll hear Stiles’ moans and gasps, they’ll change, glowing like two red currants.  
Stiles can’t resist his Alpha’s magnetic pull as he throws himself at him. Scott falls back slightly at the impact- the hungry desire ripping through him.  
  
In the nearly three months they’ve been going out, Stiles has shed his timid reservations about sex and is perhaps more ravenous than his wolf. This sometimes makes Scott smile, knowing how frightened he was the first time and now it’s sometimes Scott who has to fight him off.  
  
Stiles can’t with him. Scott just keeps making the hottest noises and it’s literally driving him wild. His voice is deep and his grunts rumble low.  
It’s enough for Stiles’ eyes to roll back into his head when the searing contact of their bodies sends a bolt of need through his sex.  
Stiles is all dressed up in his suit, his tie now wrinkled and his previously neatly swept hair dishevelled.  
The Alpha is giving Stiles a run for his money in being a horny mess.

They’re finally in the hotel room. Stiles had been talking about this rite of passage for weeks- and since both their parents would be home this particular evening, it wouldn’t have been romantic to do it in Stiles’ jeep.  
(Not that they haven’t checked that off the bucket list. More than a check, the box would look like it’s blacked out by now!).  
Still, the winter formal is just practice for the prom and Stiles thought it would be the perfect occasion to see if getting a room was worth all the hype.  
So far so good, though. Shit.  
_  
  
Scott had investigated between shifts at the clinic and found a motel with an elderly owner who’d probably not even remember they were there once checked out. It was a cash only establishment but not because it was one of those seedy places where you pay by the hour- it was just because the dude was so damn old he wouldn’t know how to work a Square if his life depended on it.  
Perfect.  
Its location was also ideal. Just barely over the town’s borders, but only 10 minutes to the high school.  
Scott had done well.  
  
So the boys told their parents they’d be attending Jackson Whittemore’s huge house party afterwards and would probably crash there.  
Noah and Melissa may not have been in high school anymore, but they remembered all too well these little white lies to facilitate being alone with one’s lover.  
As much as their sons knew that she and Noah were in a relationship and having sex- their respective parents were also all too privy to their kids’ relationship’s progress.  
So vividly so that the last time Scott spent the night at the Stilinski’s, Noah had put on headphones because the low hum of his son calling out the werewolf’s name in time to a headboard very politely slamming into a wall was a bit much.  
  
Noah was fine with his son’s sex life, he was practically an adult, but he didn’t need to be _an active listener_.  
Noah didn’t mention it the next morning, the arched eyebrow doing all his talking for him. The way Stiles looked back at him, contrition painted all over his face, made him understand that perhaps he’d let himself go a little too much.  
  
So… the winter formal. Once all the quick, sweet and obligatory photos at home were taken – with Scott’s mom getting at least fifteen different poses, both of the parental units knew the boys were definitely not going to go to the dance immediately. It was hours before the event when they took off.  
But who were they to stop young love that would have nevertheless found a way to thrive?  
Angles were important, Melissa had said, stalling for time, still clinging to some maternal instinct that told her she SHOULD be a sort of cock blocker- but knowing all too well her son was grown and this wasn’t his first time having sex, nor would it be his last.  
Scott and Stiles weren’t stupid, either- and had been fine with all of it. They were fine with whatever made their parents feel comfortable – since they in turn had been good about never being sickenly sweet with each other in front of them. (Who happened to be dating, too, but luckily they’d worked through all that weirdness by then.)  
Honestly, as long as any situation eventually resulted in he and Scott with their arms wrapped around each other as they rubbed their hard cocks together… the boys were game.  
_

“I need to feel you,” Stiles whimpers against Scott’s lips. He’s pinned up against the hotel wall, his eyes landing on the rather large king-size bed.  
It’s huge. A lot bigger than either of their beds at home, and Stiles licks his cherry lips as he wonders what it’ll feel like to lay on it while Scott takes him.  
“Please. Don’t make me beg, Scott.”

“Oh, but you sound so _cute_ when you beg.” There’s a grin on Scott’s face which is priceless before he goes back to testing his lover’s mouth with his tongue.

“Scott.” Stiles knows that he sounds whiney and pathetic. He knows. But he doesn’t care when he has Scott’s big hands cupping his ass nice and hard, his long fingers digging into him through the fabric of his dress pants.  
“Please, baby.”

“Oh, Stiles,” Scott sibilates, his tongue bruising the cord of his neck.  
“I’ll make you feel so good. So good. Come over here. Wanna touch you. Wanna taste you.”

With half-lidded eyes, Stiles lets Scott pull him closer to the bed.  
Scott possesses his mouth once more – except this time it’s deeper and so much more passionate. The kiss is wild and hot and Stiles clings onto Scott’s suit jacket, pulling at the dark material, needing to hold on to _something_ lest he lose himself completely.  
He ends up pulling it off, with Scott doing the same to Stiles’, and then that carries on until they’re both totally bare for each other.  
Both of them are so hard, their cocks throbbing and rubbing together as they continue the exploration of their bodies. Few things are secret to them now,  
but that doesn’t matter because each new experience brings with it a renewed sense of awe.  
  
Stiles hisses at the feeling, his hand reaching down so he can wrap it around Scott’s fat cock, pumping it up and down as Scott just growls into his ear.

They claim the bed after that.  
There are crisp, clean, white sheets under them and Stiles can’t wait until they get thrown around everywhere and get sullied by their secretions.  
Stiles lands on top of Scott, the two of them pushing their tongues deep into each other’s mouths before Scott pulls away with gritted teeth and inky eyes.

“I wanna feel you in my mouth, Stiles. Taste you. Please, baby,” he mutters, not blinking even once as he stares into Stiles’ adoring gaze.  
“Turn around, get on all fours above me. Turn around.” Scott grips Stiles’ hips, nudging him in the right direction.

With a fresh flush to his pale cheeks, Stiles listens to Scott’s instructions and shakily shifts. He turns himself so that his cock and ass are in Scott’s face, making sure that he keeps his knees on the bed to give his lover enough space.  
When he looks down, he gets a perfect view of Scott’s swollen cock head. It’s almost as red as his lover’s eyes when he’s angry or turned on… and dripping with pre-cum, and when it twitches, Stiles can’t help himself as he leans in and wraps his puffy lips around it.  
  
He went by instinct long ago, but now he’s practised and knows exactly how Scott likes it. Prides himself on it, to be honest. Bringing the Alpha to a beg with just his hot mouth.  
Stiles suckles at it with a low mewl, his soft fingers wrapping around the base and playing with it. He lets his tip slide under the foreskin until he feels the Alpha tense beneath him.   
Scott’s so big and so stiff that it makes Stiles tremble in desire.

Scott gives Stiles’ ass a long, heavy, warm lick before he focuses on Stiles’ shaft. He grabs it with one hand, rubbing the pink tip up against his lips, turning it all glossy and wet before he laps at the crown.  
Pre-cum coats his tongue and he greedily gulps down the liquid the more Stiles sucks at his sex.  
Engulfing his cavity around it, inching his head down further and further until his nose finds itself in the crack of Stiles’ peachy ass, Scott hollows his cheeks.  
A loud, deep groan leaves Stiles’ mouth at that. It’s fucking bliss.  
“Fuck, Stiles…”  
Scott’s lips are like pillows on his steel muscle. He quickly feels himself wanting to give Stiles that exact feeling of pure, fiery urgency, so he inhales his cock whole.  
His mouth feels full and stuffed and he loves it. It makes him DEVOUR it, faster and sloppier, coating it in his sticky, wet spit.  
Stiles presses his hands to the mattress, using it as a grip as he bobs his head up and down wildly, loving the sound of the gagging noises that are escaping the back of his throat.  
Scott’s bleeding tip pushes up into that soft spot right at the back.

Stiles does his best to take every inch he can. It’s hard when Scott is licking and sucking at his cock in a maddening, teasing pace.  
Stiles is _aching_ to release – he’s _desperate_ for it, but he knows Scott will want to take him good and hard before they even leave the room.  
Clinging onto the linens, Stiles pulls away from the thick length in his mouth. There’s a filthy and wonderful pop in the air as he does so, and he gives Scott’s tip a little kitten lick before he lets out a desperate question.

“Scott… can you… can you please just… will you please just fuck me already?” Stiles asks in a hoarse voice, wrecked by Scott’s huge dick.

The boy feels a little dizzy as he’s suddenly pulled onto the mattress, his back up against it as Scott looks down at him with that same wanting stare that makes his insides melt every time they’re intimate.  
Scott’s plunging his cock before he presses it to Stiles’ hole, filling the boy up in one good, hard thrust. Scott’s is so slick with spit and pre-cum that he pushes it into Stiles with ease, whose opening is more than used to this invasion by now.  
His lover wastes no time as he wraps his legs around Scott’s waist, pulling the boy in deeper.  
Stiles wants it hard, and he grabs Scott’s ass with splayed digits, moving the other boy closer so that his ass is totally taken.

“God, fuck, you feel so fucking tight,” Scott says with gritted teeth. “Jesus, Stiles. I love you.”  
“Fuck me hard, Scott. Please.”

Stiles could have cum then and there, but instead he just focuses his eyes on his boyfriend, pulling at the boy’s curls with desperate tugs. Scott’s wolf is back.  
His smoldering stare is blood red and ready to be satisfied.  
“Stiles…”  
  
And then the sound of skin slapping skin permeates the air, and it mixes in with their grunts and moans.  
Scott tunnels Stiles hard, and all Stiles wants to feel his Alpha letting go as he cums deep inside of him, his insides ready to be filled up to the brim with his Alpha’s release.  
  
Stiles wants that. Needs that. He’s been so close to asking for the knot, to asking to be his mate… he’s not yet ready, but it’s a matter of time if things go like they are.  
  
He yanks Scott’s dark tendrils, squeezing the ring of his sex around his huge member.  
He feels his own length rubbing up against Scott’s stomach as he’s claimed, his sex being tickled with the dark hair on his boyfriend’s stomach as each thrust pulls the foreskin back.

“Mm, Scott, mm, I’m… Oh shit, I’m gonna…”  
Stiles isn’t able to finish his sentence, because a second later Scott thrusts into him so hard and fast and deep that his eyes suddenly widen. Pure, hot pleasure takes over as his limbs paralyze.  
Scott circling his hips, his cock hilted so, so deep into Stiles’ cavity he can almost taste the tip again… Stiles breaks against his stomach when he feels Scott bust inside him, too.  
“Fuck, Stiles, I couldn’t hold back…I’m sorry,” he wheezes.  
  
He empties himself into Stiles’ tight opening while Stiles stains his own stomach and chest with his seed.  
They’re both panting as Scott keeps moving in and out of Stiles, fucking his come into him and back out… making sure it’s made its mark inside him.  
He’s good for a little more, and in fact his cock still oozes out the last streams of his warm loads, filling Stiles up with drop after drop of his hot jizz.  
  
Stiles loves it. Revels in it.  
He loves how wet and sticky he feels, especially when Scott gives him a slow, lazy peck on the lips. He loves how the come sloshes around inside him when he moves. That not all of it will wash away and he’ll carry it inside him even at the dance. 

“Maybe we should actually, you know, go to the formal,” Scott suggests with a grin. “I wanna dance with you, Stiles. Show everyone how wonderful and beautiful you are.”

Stiles, though ready for another romp, loves the idea of a slow waltz with his one and only love.  
“Sure thing. Can’t wait. Let’s jump in the shower and go.”

_

  
“Lucky your mom got those two million photos of us before we left, ‘cause my suit looks like trash,” Stiles says with a chuckle, studying himself.

It had looked close to perfect before he and Scott went all wild in the hotel room. But as he stares at it, he realises there’re creases in his shirt and no matter how hard he tries, he just isn’t able to make his tie look straight.  
Lydia shaking her head at him in a disapproving manner from across the hall lets _him_ know that _she_ knows what they got up to.  
He sends her a friendly albeit awkward wave, anyway. She smirks and shakes her head at them both, a loving look framing her face.

“You look amazing,” Scott says, giving Stiles a soft nudge. “You wanna dance?”

Stiles is about to scream out a heavy yes, but he’s rather thirsty after what happened at the motel, and his tongue feels parched.  
“I’d love to, but I might just grab something to drink first. You want something too?”

“Ooh, yeah, thanks,” Scott replies.

Stiles going over to the table to grab some punch leaves someone with a window to jump in. Something he’s been waiting for for weeks.  
There’s a hop in Stile’s step as he fills up two plastic cups, trailing slowly back over to Scott who has his back to him. And that’s when Stiles sees him talking to someone.  
Isaac Lahey.  
He’s looking Scott up and down with a blatant, obvious laviscious stare.  
Stiles knows that look. It’s how _he_ looks at Scott, and he likes to think it’s how Scott looks at him. Stiles stays in place, not wanting to eavesdrop but also far too afraid of the way Isaac’s ogling his boyfriend.

“Hey, Scott. I thought you weren’t gonna come,” Isaac says with a gleaming smile. “You’re kinda late.”

The Alpha blushes, tugging nervously on his sleeve.  
“Me and Stiles got a little caught up with something before coming here. But it’s a great formal this year. Lydia did a great job,” Scott remarks.

“Yeah, she did. Though until you got here, it was missing an important element.”  
Isaac’s baby blues are shimmering, and it’s what’s making Stiles fume in the corner, the punch twitching in his tense grasp.   
“I just wanted to say that your suit looks amazing. You look great. Like, _really_ great. Better than your usual tees and jeans. You really clean up, nice, Scott. So handsome.”

“Oh, huh, thanks,” Scott rubs at the back of his neck. He can feel Stiles' laser gaze on his back. _Is Isaac… hitting on me?_ “You look nice, too.”

That’s when Stiles feels that all too heavy wave of insecurity hit him.  
Oh. Okay then.  
He clears his throat, trying to figure out why he had wasted time going to the formal with Scott in the first place when fucking Isaac scarf boy Lahey exists.  
Isaac with his perfectly styled locks and big sky eyes and charming smile. (And probably an even bigger dick!)  
Everything Stiles doesn’t have. Stiles hates that his insecurities are slapping him in the face on winter formal night of all nights.

“Thanks,” Isaac says with a quick nod, taking a step closer to Scott.  
“I was a little upset that I didn’t get to ask you to the formal first, though. I would have loved to come with you, you know? I guess I waited too long to ask and then someone else swooped in.”

Stiles draws a shaky breath.  
He knew it! That sneaky bastard!  
Shit. He knew it would happen… he didn’t think it would happen so soon. Stiles thought he’d at least get to have a dance or two with Scott before someone better stole him away, but there he is, standing before an-oh-so confident Isaac who’s making it obvious what he wants.

“Would you like to dance with me?” Isaac then asks, throwing a perfunctory glance in Stiles’ direction but kind of pretending he’s not there at all.

Stiles waits for Scott to walk away with Isaac and get lost in the crowd, but he just clears his throat instead.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” Scott says lowly. “I'm here with Stiles, you know. But thank you.”

Stiles watches as Isaac’s grin fades and he walks away, and that’s when Scott finally turns back around.  
Stiles’ hands are shaking so much he’s covered in the stupid punch and he’s pretty sure he’s gonna drop the cups precariously teetering in his hands.

“Oh my God, I knew it,” Stiles whispers as he sidles up. “I knew he was in love with you. Do you love him? I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s so much more handsome than I am. He’s taller than me, too. Is that what you’re into? Tall guys? I knew it. You’re into tall guys with nice smiles and deep voices who wear scarves.”

Stiles’ honey eyes are so blown you can barely see their color.

Scott opens his mouth to explain but Stiles just starts up again.  
“Do I need braces, Scott? Scott, do you want me to get braces? It would have been nice if you told me to get braces. I would have liked the heads up. I think he’s wearing the same shirt as me… Do you like it better on him? Are you really gonna go dance with him? Are you gonna dance with him to a slow song or a fast song? Not that it matters. Wait, no, it _matters_ , because if it’s slow, it’ll be all romantic, and I’m gonna wrap my tie around his neck if he even grazes-”

“Stiles, OH MY GOD,” Scott says with a laugh, his hands landing on Stiles’ rosier cheeks. “Did someone spike the punch? Have you lost your mind?!”

Stiles looks down at the cup, confused. “No, Scott. I haven’t drunk it yet.”

His serious answer is so endearing Scott can’t help but belly laugh. God bless this beautiful man he calls a boyfriend with all his quirks and all his insecurities.  
“Baby, calm down. I want _nothing_ to do with Isaac,” whispers Scott. “I have no interest in him and I don’t want to dance with him here. _Ever_.”

“But,” pouts Stiles, his moles lower on his face than usual from his expression shrinking… “But he’s so pretty and tall.”

“And yet he still has nothing on you,” Scott breathes, with pure love blazing in his dark eyes. “You’re beautiful, and a million times more handsome, and you absolutely do not need braces. I love your smile. And I love you. Not him. You’re mine, baby, and whether or not you like it you’re stuck with me.”

“But he asked you to dance,” Stiles says as he looks past Scott’s shoulder at Isaac, who’s now talking to Danny. “And you said you’ll get back to him on that… You… You didn’t say no…”

Oh Stiles! “I was trying to be polite,” shrugs Scott. “Don’t exactly wanna cause a scene at the formal, especially when all I want do is dance with _you_ , you anxious egg. That’s it. I don’t want any drama tonight. I just wanna dance with my boyfriend, and then go back to my motel room with him, and spend the rest of the night making sweet love. There are a few things we still haven't tried, baby...”

Stiles bites into his bottom lip, a renewed ardor growing in his belly.  
“That sounds perfect.”

The upbeat music in the air suddenly changes and is replaced with a slow, soft beat. Scott wiggles his eyebrows at Stiles, taking the cups out of his hand and placing them on the nearby table.  
“We can drink in a minute. Dance with me.”  
Grabbing Stiles’ hand, he gives the boy a pull, so he lands on his chest.

“You wanna dance to some Backstreet Boys with me?” asks Scott, beaming.

“It’s 'This I Promise You' by NSYNC, Scott. Jesus Christ learn your boy bands…we'll work on that. But yeah, there's nothing else I want to do right now than dance with you to crappy music from 2000,” Stiles replies with a knowing smile. "And Scott?"  
"Yeah?"  
Leaning in so no one can hear him, he whispers it against Scott's cheek. "I love you."  
Scott's a puddle of emotions! “I love you, too, baby. _This I promise you_.”

"Smooth Scott, smooth," Stiles quips to lighten the moment, secretly adoring ALL of this.  
Stiles lets Scott pull him out onto the dance floor, where the two of them cosy up and hold hands and move to the gentle music. Neither are born dancers, but it doesn’t matter.  
From a distance, Lydia gives Stiles a thumbs up. She mouths "You two are so cute!"  
  
Stiles rests his head on Scott’s shoulder, shutting his eyes as he marvels in the warm feeling of Scott’s arms around his body.  
He’s beyond excited for the rest of the night, for the rest of whatever this is for them and what it might mean for the future… but at that moment, all he wants to do is get lost in Scott’s arms and his inebriating, comforting wolf scent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it, please feel free to comment and kudo and bookmark. I'll be very appreciative of feedback and kind support!


	3. The Cupcake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles should thank Isaac for being his beacon. For drawing him forth with his insolence out of a fog of insecurities and disquiet. Dragging him through a state of glaring anger, he lured him into a sort of settled assertiveness. It was something Stiles never knew he needed.  
> Scott can hardly recognize _this_ new version of him, but Christ... he's not minding it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry people- I couldn't wait to write another for this. :)  
> And there's at least one or two more for sure. So bookmark or stay tuned and especially enjoy!

Smooth between his fingertips, like Scott’s skin when he runs the pads of his fingers over his...the object is cool on his palm.  
Glossy… like the darkness of his eyes that resemble river-tumbled pebbles when Scott's gaze is boring into Stiles’ as they move as one.  
  
Stiles wraps the shiny teardrop into the colored paper after examining it under the light, its black jewel sparkling as he turns it over repeatedly in his hand.  
He smiles to himself as he imagines Scott’s face at the revelation. More so at how it will feel inside.   
(This one’s kind of more a gift to myself, he thinks).  
  
There is a second box. Scott’s “real” birthday present. He slides both packages into the gift bag. Stiles is about to tie off the blood-red ribbon when the doorbell rings.  
It echoes downstairs, the tink to it muffled from behind his bedroom door.  
 _Who the hell is this on a Saturday morning?  
_  
“Dad!”  
  
After waiting for an appropriate amount of time, Stiles calls out once more. When there’s no answer, he makes to stand.  
Whoever it is presses the chime again.  
  
Dragging himself to the window, but not before hiding the goods under his bed, though, Stiles peers over the pane, squinting to gain focus.  
His dad’s doing winter yardwork. No way he heard the bell, as his ear buds indicate he’s listening to music.  
  
“Not a moment’s peace around here…” he mumbles to himself as he takes two stairs at a time.  
It can’t be Scott, he guesses when he gets to the landing. He’s working a shift at the vet clinic until 2. And anyway, Scott’s got a key now just like Stiles had had made to the McCall’s years ago.   
  
“Coming!” he screams as his hand turns the lock.  
Sunlight floods the gaping space to the door’s left. The cool January air blasts in, making Stiles’ skin prickle up under his hoodie.  
  
“You have got to be kidding me.” A groan accompanies the roll of his eyes. Stiles grips his front door tightly.  
  
“Morning, handsome.”  
 _Handsome_? What the fuck is he on about? Stiles skewers the unexpected guest with an unflinching look.  
Isaac grins back, five curled digits dangling over the frame.  
  
“What do _you_ want?”  
There’s a mixture of emotions inside him and they all manifest slowly, in succession, like a slide show across Stiles’ face.  
Frustration. Annoyance. Jealousy. A little bit of awe at how put together this asshole looks at 10 am on a Saturday.  
But mostly, what’s turning his bowels is anger.  
  
“Can I come in? It’s cold outside.”  
Isaac. Isaac with that stupid, perfect fucking smile provoking him. His waves perfectly styled and – oh look- he’s shoehorned himself into the tightest jeans Stiles has ever seen, making his perfect ass pop from below a custom-fitted wool jacket the EXACT color of his eyes.  
 **Perfect!**  
  
Stiles grips the door tighter, his knuckles fading into white.  
“No…. sorry,” he tilts his head and hisses. “Kinda in the middle of something.”  
  
Isaac’s freshly shaved face darkens. The curled hand closes into a fist.  
“Stiles, you’re seriously not going to let me in? It’s fucking freezing!”  
  
The brunette sucks in a sharp breath, trapping the expletives he’s thinking behind his teeth. He wishes he could just slam the damn thing in his stupid mug.   
There’s a note of pleading in Isaac’s pool eyes as he shuffles from one foot to the other- his breath a crystalizing puff in the air between them.  
Stiles concludes with a clench to his jaw there was no use for both of them to be cold.   
Swiveling to make room, he utters a reluctant invitation. “Fine. Come in. You’ve got 2 minutes.”  
  
A smug crease to Isaac’s mouth as he crosses the threshold reveals an air of conquest.  
“Thank you.”  
  
Stiles finds himself in front of the boy after he circles him to shut the low temp out. Arms crossed over his chest and head bent, he does not look impressed.  
  
“So, what do you want?”

“I was looking for Scott,” Isaac says, adjusting his eggshell-colored scarf so it drapes low around his throat.  
  
 _Of course he’d be wearing a scarf._ God, how much of a prick is he?! Stiles spits in his head.  
He’s sure Isaac doesn’t know how to speak in any other language but asshole.

“His mom told me he was here,” Isaac carries on.

“Okay. And?” Stiles bites back. There’s snark thickening in his voice, but he feels like Isaac deserves to hear it so he’s not particularly concerned.

Shaking his waves out with his right hand, he laughs, amused at how much he’s getting Stiles riled up.  
“Well, is Scott here or not?”

Do I look like his PA is what Stiles wants to answer, but instead he opts for a quick reply.  
“He’s staying here this weekend, but right now he’s working a shift at the clinic. Why? What’s so important?”

That’s when Isaac pulls a little box out from under his expensive woolen coat. It’s wrapped up neatly, (some would say… _perfectly!)_ and Stiles just knows that Isaac spent like, thirty-five hours at his desk covering up the mystery box with blue paper while he probably thought about what it was like to kiss Scott!  
And look, the shiny tissue is the same shade as his goddamn eyes. Is this a theme?!  
 _Loser_.

“Is that trash? You wanna give Scott your trash?” Stiles asks with raised eyebrows and a fake smile. “I’ll pop it in the garbage for ya. Here.”  
Stiles reaches out to grab the present, but Isaac takes a step back and clicks his tongue.

“So testy, Stiles. As usual.” He contrives to fix a gaze that doesn’t reveal all. Isaac’s not sure it’s working.

“I am not _testy_.”

“Sorry, right,” Isaac stretches his long legs and in two steps he’s covered most of the space between them, pocketing the gift in the meantime. “You’re just being a little baby.”

Stiles’ button nose tingles from the scent of his cologne and instinctively his body arches toward him, before he catches it and hangs back.  
What the hell am I doing? he chastises himself.

“You’re time’s almost up. What exactly do you want?” Stiles groans.  
He’s ready to push this Abercrombie reject out the door already.

“I just wanted to give Scott a present for his birthday.” Leaning in, he lowers his voice, all the while keeping his stare firm on Stiles’ mouth. “You know, something to brighten his special day. Is that a crime?”  
  
A hesitation tangles the words up in Stiles’ throat. And ...Why is he standing so close to me? He wonders. What the hell is going on?!  
  
“Yes. Yes, it is. And my dad is in the backyard and he’s going to arrest you in five, four, three…”  
Stiles looks down at his shaky wrist, tapping at an invisible watch. He knows full well that his dad doesn’t even have a clue anyone’s here.  
  
A stupid, annoying chuckle escapes Isaac’s full lips.  
“You’re such a drama queen, Stiles. Maybe I’ll just hang around your place until Scott gets back, hmm? Is he going to be much longer? I don’t mind waiting…”  
  
After surveying the room, he leans in, partially shadowing Stiles’ body with his. A hand cups the outline of his bicep and Stiles’ head jerks to the touch.  
“Maybe we could find something to entertain us while we wait?”  
  
WHA?!  
 _Is he...???_  
  
Stiles finds a place for his hand on his chiseled chest. He shoves Isaac back – not being too rough, but he puts enough pressure into it that there’s some space between the two of them.  
A gasp is caught in his throat, Isaac suddenly feeling hot all over. 

“I think you should just go home,” Stiles says, his tone low and his honey eyes narrowed. “And leave me and Scott alone.”

Isaac nods slowly, not in the least bit perturbed by the request. He bites into his bottom lip, eyeing Stiles up and down with a slow, lingering stare.  
  
“You know, you seem a little jealous, Stiles. And nervous.”  
  
Stiles quickly flushes red. He chokes on his spit a little. Why is he getting under his skin like this?! What did he do to deserve this? And why won’t Isaac stop fixating on his mouth?  
“I’m not… nervous. I’m just annoyed that you don’t seem to understand that Scott’s my boyfriend and he’s not interested.”  
  
For a second Stiles thought he wouldn’t answer- but Isaac nods briefly and sighs.  
“I want Scott. I’m not gonna lie. But it’s not what you think.”  
  
He knew it! And the nerve!  
“So you want my boyfriend, but you don’t at the same time?! Oh, what is it then?” Stiles scoffs, seriously done with this entire thing. Could he punch him out if he was quick enough?  
  
“What I mean, is… “ his tongue darts out to moisten the crevice of his mouth. “Scott isn’t the only one I want. We could share him _together_. And maybe he’d even share _you_ with _me_? What I’m interested in, Stiles, _is the both of you_. I was just going to broach the subject with Scott first, since he’s an Alpha and all.”  
  
Lifting his chin, Isaac’s eyes ablaze, he studies Stiles for a reaction.  
As the words sink in, Stiles isn’t sure what he’s doing as he waves his finger in Isaac’s face, trying to come up with _some_ point as he uses his other hand to pull at his ear loosely.  
Hold on just a minute. He wants to fuck them both?!  
  
“You can’t mean that! What's even more insane than you thinking Scott likes you- is that I’d ever let you touch me.”  
  
A tremor tightens Stiles’ muscles.  
A threesome?! Is he insane?  
 _A threesome!_ Stiles keeps repeating to himself. _A threesome_ with his arch enemy, no less!  
  
Stiles is visibly flustered – his pulse picking up. _The audacity!_  
  
Isaac chuckles, sky eyes lighting up with a cocky confidence that Stiles knows he’ll never have.  
Before anything else is said, Isaac lurches forward, seizing the moment and reaching Stiles with his lips.  
  
The tingle and throb of the wolf’s mouth completely covering his- his searing hands cupping his face… Stiles’ concentration is scattered.  
But only for several seconds. Then he realizes what’s happening and that’s when he pulls off, the electric current coursing through him immediately blamed on the heat of the moment and nothing more.  
It wouldn’t be anything more! _This is Isaac!_  
  
The wolf pants, wiping the middle of his lips with his thumb. He’s burning under Stiles’ heated stare.  
“What the actual fuck?” Stiles’ voice is hoarse - a string trying to pull the words together like a name necklace.  
  
Isaac is still looking at him like _that_ , with a tinge of lust and the offer hanging in the air. Stiles’ brain fog is so thick he probably wouldn’t remember his address right now.

“You better walk away,” Stiles says weakly, ignoring the way Isaac chuckles at his words. “Because I’m seriously pissed off right now.”  
Okay… 99.5 percent pissed off and maybe 0.5 percent confused. But… again… the dominant sentiment here is anger.  
  
“You kissed me back, Stiles. Don’t deny it.”  
The mischievous grin on his face isn’t helping Isaac’s case towards passive innocence. “It was just the tip… but sometimes _even the tip_ is enough.”  
He’ll just leave that hanging there.  
  
Fuck. Now with sexual innuendos, too.   
“I didn’t kiss you back, you dick. I was probably reacting to how repulsed I was. Now I really need you to leave before I do something I’ll regret.”  
Stiles can still taste his Doublemint, and there's a hint of coffee, too… what the fuck…  
Why this disruption in their lives?!  
  
“Tell yourself what you want, Stiles.”   
  
Distracted, Stiles doesn’t predict the slap on his right ass cheek before Isaac turns around a second later and walks away.  
  
Mouth agape, Stiles is speechless.  
  
Looking at Stiles over his shoulder and sending the boy a wink, he pulls on the doorknob.   
“I’ll text Scott, give him his present on Monday. In the meantime, think about what I said. The three of us? Hot as fuck. I’m not known for my modesty, Stiles. I give the best blowjobs in Beacon and I’d love to prove that to you both. I’m totally down to hitting both of you.”  
  
"You're an asshole!" Stiles manages in a very unconvincing tone.   
  
"Compliments on that fine ass..." Isaac sees himself out, the door shutting quietly behind him.  
  
Stiles’ eyebrows furrow as he takes in everything Isaac has just said to him. He can barely draw breath he's so overwhelmed. Was he being serious? He wants a _threesome_? An actual living, breathing threesome?  
  
How in the world is he going to explain this shit to Scott… and on his birthday no less?

_

“He propositioned me, Scott! He propositioned _us!_ ” Stiles snaps his thigh with an open palm.  
“Can you believe it? And he said it all so confidently, too. Like I’d say yes! Like I’d say yes to sharing you with him. I would never do that. Ever. And I’m pretty sure you’d never do it, either.”  
  
Stiles jerks up when in the split second he finished his question Scott doesn’t answer. “Would you? Would you want to?! Are you thinking about this?!”  
Scott's completely out of it, staring down into a bakery box. Stiles busies himself with yet another panic attack.  
  
"Scott? A minute of your time?"  
Scott’s unwrapping a cupcake his mom baked him for his birthday. He's only partially engaged in this. “I don’t get why you’re upset. So he likes us both? He thinks we’re hot? Is that such an offensive thing?”  
  
His hands limp at his sides as he stares at Scott, Stiles shakes his head as he recalls the memory of Isaac standing before him…lips pressed to his. Tongue teasing Stiles’.  
Ugh. The urge to slap Isaac right across his stupid, smug, handsome face hasn’t left him yet.  
  
“Yes it's offensive. Very offensive. And he kissed me! HE KISSED ME! Had the nerve to say I kissed him back.”  
  
Scott isn’t listening. Like, not at all now.   
Stiles hears a whine. He looks to the source of the noise, looking at the end of the bed where Scott’s sitting with his legs crossed. There’s a dark chocolate cupcake cradled in his splayed fingers, his teeth biting into the sweet food; his eyes half shut in ecstasy.  
His tongue sticks out for a second and he runs it across his top, plump lip, the frosting smearing there, leaving a dollop on the corner of his mouth.  
  
Stiles doesn’t miss the low moan that leaves Scott’s mouth, either. He’s not exactly being subtle.

The frenzy leaves Stiles’ voice… his speech slows as he watches his boyfriend make love to this pastry. “It’s like Isaac has no concept…. of… of…. "  
Scott's muscle laps up the creamy topping... "what a relationship is,” He’s stuttering.  
  
It’s like Scott’s giving the thing head! He’s licked all the frosting clean off and Stiles is fucking squirming now.  
“Or how much I fucking love you. There’s no way I’m going to sit there and let Isaac put… put… his hands all over you.”  
  
Scott sticks a finger inside and gathers some bits of the spongy goodness. 

“So good,” Scott murmurs, shaking his head. “Mm, this tastes so, so good. Want another.”  
Crumpling up the wrapper to that one which he basically inhaled, he grabs another. Into the cupcake Scott goes, a groan filling up the room as he throws his head back to savor the rum frosting.  
  
Stiles has stopped speaking. His cock twitches as he stares at Scott. It’s hard not to have that reaction when he keeps making those lewd noises. The same that send Stiles over the edge when they’re fucking. 

He clears his throat. He asks, knowing the answer already. “Scott, did you not hear a word of what I said? Isaac wants to hook up with us. At the same time. Does that not freak you out?”

“Oh my God, how is this _so good_?” grunts Scott. He literally _grunts_.  
He’s still devouring the second cupcake, lips glistening and a little swollen from licking at them so many times. The laments get louder and louder, the sounds not ending until he’s consumed every last crumb.  
At the opposite end of the bed Stiles is fighting a full-on erection and a smidge of rage at not being listened to.  
  
And then Scott sticks his chocolate covered finger into his mouth, sucking at the digit with shut eyes and a little hip buck to boot. “Fuck yeah, tastes so good.”

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles mutters. He’s not sure if Scott is doing this on purpose or not, but he's had enough.   
  
“Scott, it’s a goddamn cupcake. Take it easy. Melissa’s baking skills aren’t that great. Take it down several notches before I pin you to the damn bed.”

“Mm,” is all Scott says, still sucking at his finger. “Told my mom to add rum and they are SO MUCH BETTER this way.”

He sounds so blissed out to Stiles... all dazed and out of it, and it just makes Stiles hiss. An elbow tries to adjust his growing bulge.   
  
There’s anger boiling under the boy's surface. He’s mad Scott doesn’t seem to give a shit… isn’t even really listening.  
He’s still pissed about Isaac trying to sneak his way into their sheets and kissing him… (which fine... not even under torture Stiles would admit was titillating _for a microsecond.)  
_ Lucid now… Stiles is having none of it, and the urge to show Scott that they don’t need anyone else to make their eyes roll into the back of their heads consumes him.

“You were warned,” Stiles says as he lunges forward.  
The cupcake is gone – completely eaten up by the still apparently food-orgasming Scott – so Stiles yanks at the boy and flips them over so that Scott is underneath him. 

Scott chuckles at this sudden change in demeanor.   
"Are you okay, Stiles?"   
  
Stiles quickly closes the gap, kissing at Scott with a growl of his own. The taste of sweet chocolate hits him. Stiles’ roving hands land on Scott, pinning his boyfriend to the bed as he grinds himself, letting him gauge just how stiff he is.  
“You feel that? This is what you’re doing to me.”  
  
There’re little whimpers escaping from Scott’s lips at this hardness so urgently grazing his, and they just make Stiles move against him with more gusto.  
  
Stiles wants to assert dominance. He just wants to show Scott (and himself) that they don’t need anyone else.  
Especially someone like Isaac.  
But something’s rising in him- a side he never thought he needed to express until now.

Stiles devour’s Scott’s mouth. Harder. Faster. His tongue pushes in and out of his cavity as his hands free his lover of his tee.  
He keens as his hands land on Scott’s bare arms, his fingers squeezing at them, marvelling at the toned muscles and the hard skin and just how imposing Scott is.  
 _  
And Scott is all his_.  
Stiles licks him all over his torso, traveling from the hollow of his throat to a nipple before returning to his thirsty lips. 

“You’re eager,” Scott says with a low laugh, turned on like never before.

“Mm. You have no idea.” Stiles barely talks as he pulls off his own shirt, letting it hit the floor before he shoves off his jeans and boxers.  
His cock is so needy as it springs forth, the foreskin unfurled and the vein throbbing. His hand’s so hot wrapped around his length, but he needs something else.  
Something warm and wet and soft. Pliable. Scott's mouth.

“Wanna feel your mouth on me,” Stiles mutters, eyes two pinpoints. “Get down on your knees.”  
  
His eyebrows raise at how quickly Scott obliges. It’s usually Scott who’s in charge – and Stiles absolutely loves that. But whatever’s happening today…it’s got Scott staring up at him with enormous eyes full of wonder, stars, and want.  
  
Stiles grabs his black hair, pulling Scott’s head back to expose his delicious neck, which he attacks with his lips and small nips of his teeth.  
Scott is helpless in his arms, unable and unwilling to stop him from doing whatever he feels like to him.

“Taste me. Taste my cock, Scott," Stiles says as he poises himself in front of Scott's mouth. 

“Fuck…” Scott breathes.  
  
He's kneeling, Stiles inching himself into his lover's open mouth, the Alpha sucking on it hungrily the further in it goes. 

Stiles groans deeply, running his fingers through his waves while Scott’s member fills his mouth, the scent of Stiles’ sweaty skin and the musk of his pubes igniting the fire inside him.

“God, Scott, yeah,” Stiles grits his teeth, fingers laced in Scott’s hair who is already bobbing up and down, almost hilted.  
The boy does everything he can to keep his eyes open, his half-lidded stare on Scott who is so eagerly feasting on his length. There are wonderful slurping sounds in the air as Stiles pushes his cock in and out, faster and being sure to do so with exercised force.

“Gah..ghh..” Scott has his lips on his balls, letting spit just fall from his mouth and completely drench them.  
Stiles is delirious with pleasure, and he's so close… but he doesn’t want this to end here. Not so quickly.  
  
“Stop, Scott.”  
When he pulls him off, there’s a filthy trail of spit connecting his wet lips to the swollen tip, and Stiles nearly cums right there. Scott looks wrecked.

“Mm, so good,” Scott mewls, rubbing the head of Stiles’ cock up against his lips. Most of the chocolate stain is gone from his ministrations.  
“You taste sweeter than any cupcake, Stiles. I love it. Love how you taste. Love you in my mouth.”

Christ. Stiles is aching, especially since Scott is cupping his balls softly, giving them a perfect little squeeze that makes him sigh. He throws his head back, teeth clenched as Scott gives Stiles’ cock little kitten licks just over the slit.

“Ugh… ugh… “ Stiles whispers. This is perfect. But…  
  
It’s when Scott retracts and runs his tongue along the underside of Stiles’ length that Stiles can’t take it anymore. Scott’s lips are so slick with spit and pre-cum and his cheeks are all flushed and his eyes still have a perfect shade of haziness to them.  
Stiles is in love all over again.

“I fucking need you, baby,” Stiles says lowly. “Need you to touch yourself for me. Want to watch you fuck yourself.”  
  
As much as Stiles could keep pumping his cock in and out of Scott’s gorgeous mouth, he pulls the other boy up so he’s kneeling. Stiles uses the opportunity to shove down Scott’s shorts and boxers, their tongues dancing in a messy kiss as Stiles squeezes and cups Scott’s superlative ass.  
  
It’s so plump that Stiles can’t help but hum into his mouth. Stiles licks at his lips as Scott gets up on his hands and knees, fisting his erection.  
“What do you want me to do, Stiles? I'll do anything."   
  
_What’s come over him!?_

Oh god!  
“Touch yourself. Let me hear how much you’re enjoying it. I’ll tell you when to come. Wanna come together.”  
“Fuck,” Scott pleads, LOVING this idea. “I want to. Want to please you, Stiles."  
_  
  
  
“Jesus Christ,” Stiles mutters in disbelief. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Fuck me,” Scott pants. “Feels so amazing.”

Scott is literally _begging_ for it, his release, and Stiles just nods, tugging up on his shaft, a finger inside Scott's asshole that's pushing in and out, over and over.  
  
He’s lost in the warmth of Scott’s clench, his own getting pumped by his left fist.  
  
Stiles moves slowly at first, Scott getting used to the feeling of something being inside him. Then he places one foot on the bed instead of just kneeling, and when Stiles thrusts three fingers into Scott’s hole, he has to grunt out a “ _fuck_ ” of pure bliss.   
  
The fresh angle is so much better. It lets him manipulate Scott's gland with more agility - the Alpha who’s mewling and grabbing at the soft sheets below touches heaven with each sweep- and it also lends him a beautiful view of his Scott's sexually tortured face.  
  
Watching the movements, fingers a see-saw in the hole he’s knuckling, his blown eyes narrowed as Scott works his own cock in ever increasing frenzy.  
Scott, who’s making the prettiest sounds Stiles has ever heard in his goddamn life… asks his permission to come.

“Christ, doing so good,” Stiles groans. “So good, baby, so good.”

“Mm, faster,” pleads Scott. “Please, Stiles.. finger fuck me. Want it faster. Please can I come?" he huffs. 

Stiles holds onto Scott’s ass, those fingers inside him invading him deeper now- widening and narrowing the opening.   
  
There’s a slap of skin, and Stiles is relentless in his massage. He’s in complete ecstasy- shocked at how much Scott is enjoying this. The pre-come is falling from both their sexes and the realization hits him- how Stiles would like to fuck him- put his needy, bleeding cock inside his Alpha _right now_.  
  
But that’s not something they’ve discussed and he’s way too close to busting to be bringing this up here.  
  
There’s a plug under the bed- there will be time to discuss this, too.  
  
“God, Scott… “  
He’s not sure how one person could feel so good. So tight. So fucking perfect. Is this how he feels when he's inside Stiles?  
  
Stiles’ swollen balls beg for an orgasm- as does Scott’s thick member as his skin slaps in his hold.  
Stiles revels in hearing the distinct sound of Scott getting close- the laments so primitve.  
  
It makes him push into Scott harder, wanting the boy to cum so they can spill their seed together, emptying all over each other and the sheets.

“Cum for me, baby,” Stiles mutters, giving Scott a graze over the prostate. “Cum for me. Mm, do it. Want you to cum for me NOW.”  
Stiles keeps brushing, keeps pumping himself, guiding his and Scott’s sweet release.  
  
Scott lets out an ancestral groan, almost wolfish... before he falls to the mattress, a river of cum spilling down his hand and covering his thighs.  
"Stiles... fuck...."   
  
Stiles’ balls tighten, the need to cum and spill his jizz all over Scott, mark him in turn, spurn him on a second later. 

“Fucking hell, Scott.” There’s nothing but Scott’s asshole clenching around his digits, so Stiles gives his cock a nice, good squeeze in time to those... and that makes Stiles’ ears ring.  
“I’m... fucking... cumming!"  
  
He is. And Scott’s got the lucidity to pounce on him- he slides his hardness down his throat, pushing in deep, so deep that his swollen, tight balls are pressed right up against the sensitive skin of his battered lips.  
Stiles explodes inside of Scott’s mouth, holding his head there, bearing still- making him take all of his sex, all of his sperm... eyes tightly shut as he shoots out hot load after hot load.  
  
"Jesus!" he cries as he's spilling himself completely into the boy he loves more than anything in the world.  
There’s so much cum… so much… Stiles was so hungry for it.

Scott is allowed to come up for air- and he coughs, breathes in with his chest inflating, swallowing all he could like a third dessert - way better than any cupcake or sweet- but letting the last load dribble down his chin and onto his pecs.   
  
Stiles laughs, a bit of hysterics, a bit out of bliss. A bit because he LIKED telling Scott what to do.   
Fuck was this hot!   
  
Stiles falls on top of Scott with a heave, his shaking body pressing into Scott’s spent form.  
His cock is still swollen and he still feels a few more drops falling from his tip, but he’s spent and satisfied that Scott milked almost all of those last few spurts of cum from him.  
With a grunt, he kisses at Scott’s neck before licking at the cum-covered love bite he left last night.

“I love you, Scott. We don’t need anyone else in this bed,” Stiles breathes, voice frail. “Just you and me. That’s it, baby.”

Scott grins- a knowing grin of this is only the beginning of this new Stiles.  
“I get it, baby. You didn’t have to do all that to prove that to me, though I am really pleasantly surprised."  
"You didn't mind?" he shoots up.   
"Are you kidding?"  
"So you don't want Isaac here with us?"  
  
Scott's just fine with how things are. More than fine. If he never touches another dude he won't miss a thing. But he's not convinced that Stiles has yet realized what's happening to him. That there's something changing in the once shy ball of anxiety.  
He'll wait and see what his lover stumbles onto on his own. And there will be no judgment when that happens.   
  
"All I want is you. Then if further down the line, whatever’s happening to you…,” Scott whispers, a smirk on his lips.   
  
"What?"  
Scott simpers. "All I'm saying is never say never, Stiles. Look how far we've come in 4 months. I'm yours and you're mine and nothing will ever change that, okay? But don't ever feel bad telling me if you have some kind of fantasy going forward, all right?"  
  
Stiles nods into him- not sure if he's talking about the threesome or the fingering or... for now he doesn't care. His mind does wander briefly to the bag below the bed that he's yet to give Scott.  
A mental image of what it contains- the reason behind buying it. Did all this come about because Stiles has been fighting the overwhelming urge of wanting to possess Scott lately?  
Make him his own just like Scott had done with him?

Stiles rests his chin on the sternum, looking up. "You mean that? About the fantasies?"  
He smiles, pecking at Stiles' lip. "Uh-huh."   
  
“Scott, can I ask you something?”  
Scott nods, still catching his breath. He has an idea where this is going judging from this little romp's twists and turns.  
“Always.”

“Have you…” Stiles hesitates only a moment. “Would you be opposed to switching sometimes?”   
_


	4. The Presentation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac is relentless. Stiles is horrible at lying.   
> Scott's just about done with the beta's antics.

Lips pressing into a white slash, Stiles climbs the steps, trailing Isaac. The stupid beta’s cologne is making his nose itch and having to stare at his perfect ass flex and release as he climbs to the top, knowing what he knows now… he doesn’t want to admire it.   
No, he doesn’t.  
Even though he _is_ admiring it- goddammit!  
  
Trying to reason with fucking biology and tell his eyes not to rove over those perfect domes.   
Scott’s are better, he tells himself. Scott’s are _way_ better.   
  
“So, you read the book, right?” is the first thing Stiles says when his feet touch the threshold of Isaac’s bedroom, even though he knows his question has a painfully obvious answer.   
Look at this, he says to himself in disgust once his eyes survey the space.   
He hates how neat and ordered Isaac’s room is, and how the other boy has notebooks ruler-cornered on a stack on his desk.   
Stiles has the urge to knock them to the floor, but he keeps his hands stuffed into his pockets instead.

“What book?” mutters Isaac. Plopping his tall form down on his bed, he lets his head hang off the end of it, eyes crinkling into a squint.   
What is he expecting? Stiles thinks as Isaac’s hot elevator scrutiny takes him in. His focus is crotch- height and the unspoken proposition is making him very uncomfortable.

“What do you mean _what_ _book_?” Stiles sighs heavily, already done with this shit.   
“We’re supposed to read a book. You know, for the presentation we’re supposed to do… _on said book._ ”

“Oh. Yeah.” Bluebell eyes flick upward- staring at Stiles’ groin again. “I didn’t read it.”  
  
Jesus Christ.   
Stiles narrows his tired gaze. “What the fuck are we gonna write about if we haven’t even read it?”

Opening his mouth to criticize his imbecile partner, he stops short when Isaac runs a hand up his stomach, lifting the hem of his shirt until it’s exposed his tight abs up to the pecs.  
“Didn’t _you_ read it?”

A throbbing forehead vein pops and Stiles scoffs. Meanwhile two fingers travel through the faint hair trailing down from Isaac’s chest down to the hem of his pants.   
Stiles swallows hard. Is Isaac doing everything in his power to seduce him?   
“No. Why would I have?”

“Because you’re smart and hate getting bad grades.”  
Isaac flips over with a lazy roll, laying on his stomach as he arches his lower back so his ass is poised just right.   
Resting a cheek on his open palm, he licks his full cerise lips.   
“You didn’t read it either so why are you getting mad at me?” Isaac laughs.  
He adds a few eyelash flutters for good measure.  
  
Jerking down a cuff, Stiles quiets his inner dialogue. He can’t fucking believe this. Not only did Isaac purposely sabotage this so Stiles would be forced to spend more time with him, he’s also shamelessly flirting.  
  
“Yeah, but… I had stuff to do, so…” Stiles murmurs, doing his best to come up with an excuse.   
He doesn’t have one. He knows he doesn’t. But he sure as hell won’t let Isaac chastise him for it.

“Too busy fucking your boyfriend?”   
With a cluck to his tongue, Stiles cocks his head and shakes it. “You’re unbelievable.”  
Isaac’s getting bored with this game.   
“That’s why SparkNotes exists, Stiles. Don’t worry. We’ll just go on that and go from there.”

Sure, now Lahey wants to take credit for saving the day. Just how obnoxious can he be?!  
Rolling his eyes, Stiles enters the room since he realises he’s been standing in the doorway the whole time.   
He hadn’t exactly planned on _ever_ being in Isaac’s bedroom – especially alone. He’s pissed he has to spend more than an hour with the boy. It’s already late and Stiles hasn’t even eaten dinner.   
Hedging his bets, he just knows the hunger he’s already feeling will turn into a moment where he slaps Isaac across the back of the head for being…well… himself.   
He’s also mad because there’s no way they’re going to get the stupid presentation done before midnight.   
  
Stiles’ anxiety peaks. He hates everything about this.

Isaac pats the spot next to him, smirking, and Stiles doesn’t hide his groan as he drags his feet and lumbers over.   
The mattress dips as he takes a place at the end of the bed with a loud, overly dramatic sigh.

He’s about to ask if they can do this down in the living room, when his host snaps his gum.   
“So, what book is the presentation on?” Isaac asks with eyes full of stars.

Stiles throws his hands up in the air. “You don’t even know the name of the book?”  
“Well, do you?” 

“Yes! You have got to be kidding me! Tonight is already off to a terrible start,” Stiles mutters, burying his face in his hands. “It’s The Alchemist.”

“Which Harry Potter is that?”

“Isaac, I swear to God.”

There’s a smirk on Isaac’s face as he flips open the notebook he has in front of him. He pulls out a crisp sheet of paper, waving it above his head. Stiles grabs it with a grunt, eyes flickering over the page that’s not even slightly creased.   
How does Isaac keep his stuff so neat and tidy and perfect? It’s infuriating.

“The Alchemist, Isaac. By Paulo Coelho,” mutters Stiles. “It’s the magical story of Santiago, an Andalusian shepherd boy who yearns to travel in search of a worldly treasure as extravagant as any ever found.”  
“You totally got that off of Amazon.”   
  
Is he fucking kidding?! Okay, maybe he did. But still…   
“Dammit, Isaac! There’s no way we’ll have time to read the book and do the report.”   
Forgetting himself, Stiles falls back on the bed, eyes still stuck on the paper, hoping that the more he stares at it the quicker ideas will pop into his head.

Isaac grabs the opportunity. He shifts position, getting settled on the end of the bed next to Stiles with a lazy shrug. Propped up on one elbow, a tingle bounds up his limbs.  
“You act like you’ve never done a presentation last minute before. Take it easy.”

There’s a haze of desperation in the air, and Stiles doesn’t notice how close Isaac’s come to his face.   
“I _have_ done presentations last minute before. Many of them, in fact. I take pride in how good I am at doing presentations last minute,” Stiles mumbles.   
  
He’s gripping Isaac’s bed sheets and is fuming about how soft and silky they are.   
He doesn’t let Isaac know that, though.   
Instead he just glares at the boy, shaking his head at the smirk on Isaac’s face. It’s then he notices there’s probably only a curse word separating them.  
“I have, however, never had to do something last minute with someone I hate as much as you,” his voice trails off, unconvincing.

There’s a low chuckle that leaves Isaac’s cupid bow lips, his stupid ocean eyes twinkling and his lashes all dark and fluttery.   
“Why are you so mad?” Isaac’s tongue moistens his lower lip.

“I don’t like you. I don’t like being around you,” Stiles snaps, a tremor tightening in his guts.

“And why’s that? Because I turn you on and you hate admitting to yourself you’d want to fuck someone else other than Scott?”

Tell me what you really think, Stiles scoffs.   
“Uh, I know you have a thing for Scott, dummy. You’ve made that obvious. But don’t try to woo me, too.”

“Aww, are you jealous?” pouts Isaac, coaxing him to respond by tilting his head.   
Stiles’ concentration breaks, and he scoots over an inch.   
“Because I have a thing for you, too. I told you,” Isaac can almost taste him on his lips. “You know I don’t mind sharing you both. Maybe you need something to ease the tension. You’re so flustered, Stiles. You’re red. You’re blushing for me. It’s pretty.”

“I am not blushing,” Stiles mutters, covering his cheeks with his hands as he half sits. “I do not blush. Not for you, anyway. And stop looking at me!”

“You are. You’re worse than a school girl right now,” Isaac insists, all his attention running up and down Stiles’ body in a slow, calculating manner.   
“You’re blushing for me, Stiles.”

Tension visibly stiffens his shoulders and neck. “You’re seeing things. You need glasses. I’m gonna get you glasses for Christmas.”

“I can see perfectly fine, Stiles.”   
Isaac bends, his tongue gently running across his top lip as his hands land on Stiles’ wrists. Giving them a slow pull, Isaac removes Stiles’ hands from his face, his head tilted as he zeroes in on his mouth.  
  
Stiles is paralyzed. He sees it coming, he does… but then finds himself rooted in place!   
The room is dead silent for a moment – besides Stiles’ heavy breathing like a blinking banner statement – and Isaac simply smirking the closer he gets.   
“I can see everything. But there’s so much more I want to explore. So much more. Don’t you wanna see me too? _Really_ see me? And feel me? And touch me? Mm, I wanna touch _you_ so bad, Stiles.”

His belly quivers and Stiles knows he’s in the most compromising position of his life. A libidinous grin curls Isaac’s mouth.   
Stiles’ lips are parted to voice protest when Isaac closes the gap completely and their mouths mesh.   
Stiles lets out a squeal of confusion as Isaac kisses him, his tongue pushing into Stiles’ mouth who is sitting there with wide eyes and scarlet cheeks – though even under torture he’d deny that last part.   
Isaac’s hands are on him. They feel different to how Scott’s are. Isaac’s hands don’t have that same warmth. And they’re so smooth. Velvety almost as if he were touching him with the softest of gloves.   
He’s tugging at Stiles’ shirt as they kiss, and for a moment, Stiles likes it. He likes the differences, he likes the eagerness in Isaac’s brushes and his pillow lips are so…  
  
And Christ, the way Isaac is moaning. _Really moaning_. He’s letting out deep wolf grunts that make Stiles shudder.   
And then he comes to.   
Stiles gasps, realises what’s happening. The reality of what he’s doing hits him full on and so he leaps off the bed with a “Fuck!,” his hand covering his lips and his russet eyes two tea saucers.  
“What the fuck, dude?!”  
It doesn’t help his case that he’s half hard. Details. It’s a physical reaction.   
It’s a physical reaction.

“We were just about to get to get to the good part,” Isaac says, voice cocky and lips drawn into a smirk.

“That was a mistake,” snaps Stiles. “That… You shouldn’t have kissed me! I have a boyfriend! You know that I have a boyfriend! Why would you do that?! What’s wrong with you?”

“It was fun. And you didn’t pull away. Stop kidding yourself, Stiles. You liked it. Come on,” Isaac reaches, looking like he’s trying to grab at Stiles’ fingers. “Let’s finish what we started. Fuck the presentation.”

Stiles backs away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, heart pounding in his chest.   
Shit. Shit. Shit!   
Wagging his head wildly, the panic rise.   
“No. I love Scott. You know how I feel about him. And you know how he feels about me. That shouldn’t have happened. You took advantage of my shock.”

“I didn’t chain you to the bed, Stiles. And all this did happen.”

“ _Well_ , it was a mistake,” barks Stiles. “I don’t like you. I like Scott. He’s the only one I want.”  
Unbelievable! The rise this guy gets out of me! Stiles’ voice is trapped behind his teeth.   
“I’ll finish this stupid presentation on my own. At my house. Without you. Just… Just leave me and Scott alone, okay? I love him and he loves me get that through your fucking pretty little head. That kiss meant nothing.”

The pinched expression on Isaac’s face is betraying his underlying annoyance. He looks cool and casual on the surface, though Stiles is appalled at how he can act so calm after they just basically made out. 

“Whatever, Stiles,” murmurs Isaac. “You know what you did and you know you liked it. I felt how much on my leg. But if you insist on being pissed at me… you can let yourself out.”

Stiles narrows his eyes for a second before quickly turning on his heel. He takes the steps two at a time, part of his mind focused on finishing the stupid presentation, but most of his worry is on the biggest issue he’s stuck on: how the hell is he going to tell Scott that Isaac just fucking kissed him… and that for a moment he didn’t resist.

***

“You ready for the presentation this afternoon?”

Stiles literally jumps when he hears Scott’s voice behind him. He fumbles with the textbook in his hand, shoving it into his locker with a messy throw. It tumbles and clanks against the metal before Stiles turns back around, a forced smile crimping his cute face.   
He hasn’t told Scott what happened yet. He’s still not sure if he should even bring it up. What good would it do to piss off an Alpha?

“What?” whispers Stiles, pulling the backpack over his shoulder.

“The presentation? The one with Isaac? Are you ready for it? How did it go with him?” Why is Stiles acting so squirrelly? Scott thinks. Well… more than usual.

Stiles just stands there and rubs at the back of his head, doing everything in his power to avoid his boyfriend’s gaze.   
  
He’s not good at lying when it comes to Scott. Or… lying in general.   
“It was… okay.”

“Just okay?” Scott elbows him lightly. “You two didn’t go at each other’s throats?”

 _Far from it._ “No. No, nothing like that…”

“Wait, you guys actually got along and finished up the presentation? I don’t believe it.” Scott steps in his way, head cocked.

“Why don’t you believe it?” Stiles asks, a mess of panic coiling in him. “Why? What happened? You think I’m lying? Who told you what?”  
  
Smooth, Stiles. Smooth. If he didn’t think you were lying before…  
  
“What’s the matter with you, Stiles?”  
“Scott, we should both stay away from Isaac. He’s trouble. He’s the worst.”   
Now Stiles is swatting invisible flies.   
“He didn’t even read the book! Did you know that? He didn’t even know what book we were supposed to be reading. Isn’t that just the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard in your life? I mean, who doesn’t read the book you need for a _book_ presentation?”   
  
Stiles slaps at his knee, feigning laughter and desperately praying that Scott doesn’t sense the stink of deception on him. “Isn’t that just crazy?”

There’s an amused look on Scott’s face, but it’s suffused with suspicion. He tilts his head.   
“Why are you acting so weird?”

“I’m not. I’ve never acted weird in my life. Ever. You’re the one who’s acting weird.”

A little whimper leaves Stiles lips as Scott takes a step closer. Stiles presses himself up against the locker, trying to keep some distance between the two of them.  
He’s officially freaking out. 

“You smell… You smell _different_ ,” mutters Scott. He presses his nose into Stiles neck and sniffs slightly.

“No I don’t.” The strain to his voice is almost a squeal.   
Fuck! He forgot he was wearing this same flannel last night.

“No, you definitely do,” Scott continues. “You smell… Wait.”   
The realization is but an inhale away. “ _Why the hell do you smell like Isaac?”_

There’s a pause. Scott’s darkening eyes land on Stiles and Stiles knows there’s no avoiding it anymore. He sighs, burying his face in his hands as he lets out muffled words.   
Stupid Isaac and his stupid cologne and his stupid mouth.

“Isaac kissed me,” Stiles blurts out. “He just kissed me out of nowhere. We were fighting and he was being annoying and then it just happened. And worse yet, I kinda let him. I kinda let him and he thought I liked it but I swear to you it was just the shock, Scott. The SHOCK!”  
  
The guilt and the anxiety blind Stiles to Scott’s seeming indifference. He figured Isaac would try something like this when Stiles told him they had to do this project.   
He’s actually not as upset as he’d thought he’d be.   
  
“I left after that,” Stiles continues, now holding onto Scott’s collar. “Baby, I went home straight away. I guess his cologne rubbed off on me, I don’t know. God. I don’t know why he did it. I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you so much. I should have told you when it happened. Please don’t break up with me.”

From behind his tirade Stiles is worried Scott is going to completely up and leave him and go and date someone who’s taller and smarter and better looking, and when he finally pulls his hands away from his rumpled collar, he sees a certain darkness in Scott’s eyes. And the hint of a smile??  
It makes Stiles wish he had never gone to Isaac’s house in the first place. He’s convinced that Scott will end it. That Scott is just going to turn around and never speak to Stiles again.  
  
But Scott grabs Stiles’ hand, pulling at the boy and guiding him over to the cleaning closet two lockers down.   
Stiles frowns, about to ask Scott what they’re doing when Scott slams the door shut behind him.   
That same murky expression stains his boyfriend’s as their mouths crush together, he pushes his warm tongue into Stiles’ mouth.  
Stiles buries his hands in his thick hair… Jesus, it feels so good to have Scott kissing him. Scott. Not Isaac.

Stiles’ shaking fingers travel down and land on Scott’s broad shoulders, and he uses the moment to get lost in the familiarity.   
Scott’s hands just seem to be going _everywhere._ They splay over Stiles’ chest and bare arms and they cup his ass through his jeans.  
A low groan escapes Stiles under Scott’s sensuous exploration. Their breathing deepens, their lips hungry and hands exploring over rippling flesh.   
Stiles can’t even hear the murmuring voices of the students on the other side of the door for their whimpers.   
“You’re mine, Stiles,” Scott shivers in pleasure as he yanks down Stiles’ zipper. He pulls down his jeans far enough so that his hardening cock can pop out.

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you,” Scott whispers when he pulls away from Stiles’ lips.   
He nips at Stiles’ neck, licking at the skin there with a grunt.   
“Just me, baby. I’m the only one who gets to make you feel good, who gets to play with this cock. Understand?”  
  
The unbearable pressure between his legs and the growl on Scott’s lips that is his name sends a current of need through him.   
“Yes, Scott… I … I understand,” he pants from under his ministrations.

That’s when the Alpha reaches down and grab’s Stiles’ cock tight. Scott’s long fingers wrap around the other boy’s length, pumping him up with gritted fang as his tongue tunnels inside.   
“Oh holy god, Scott,” Stiles moans.   
They’re both staring at each other, with Stiles’ glossy lips parted wide as he gets lost in the heated pleasure Scott’s giving him.   
He does his best to hold in a louder groan, but he has to let it out when Scott swipes a thumb over his swollen, leaking tip. Stiles feels his balls tighten, his eyes shutting and head thrown back as he yanks at Scott’s shirt.

“I don’t want anyone else,” Stiles says it like a prayer. “Just you. Just want you to touch me. Just want to touch _you_. Mm, never want anyone else. Ever.”   
  
“Are you going to behave now, Stiles? Be good for me?”   
  
_Jesus wept, what is he doing to him?!  
_  
Trembling digits pull down the front of Scott’s underwear, his eyes widening when he gets sight of how hard Scott is. He might not have ever seen him this aroused- his dick is as angry as Scott looks.   
  
Licking at the part of their lips, reaching down to wrap his fingers around Scott’s girth…he smiles as Scott hisses.   
He mimics Scott’s actions and slides his hand up and down, his length literally throbbing, his veiny cock twitching in Stiles’ soft, warm hand.   
  
The sounds Scott is making force him to move faster. The harder he jerks Scott, using every bit of energy he can, the more his own cock twitches wildly in Scott’s grasp.   
  
“I’ll be good, Scott. It won’t happen ever again.”

The small closet is ripe with heat and the smell of their sexes and fuck! Stiles loves it!   
He loves being so close to Scott, with their hands guiding the other to bliss.

Scott pushes Stiles up against a wall, the boys almost tripping during the process. But their hands stay wrapped around each other’s member’s, getting each other off. Panting furiously when Scott sucks at that sweet spot on his neck, his knees trembling as the familiar sensation of burning tension takes over.

“Mm, Scott,” he whines. “Scott… I’m getting close.”

“Skin tastes so good,” mutters Scott. “You smell like me now. You taste like me. Exactly how it should be.”   
  
The two boys kiss wildly in the tiny closet as their cocks twitch and throb and the slap of skin competes with their moaning. Scott’s movements have gotten faster and more erratic– he pumps Stiles harder. He doesn’t forget to twist his wrist whenever he gets to the base, his fingers tightening and making certain he’s able to feel every wave of pleasure.

“Fucking cum for me,” Scott groans against Stiles’ lips, so lost in what he’s doing he almost forgets Stiles is tugging on his sex.   
“Cum for me, baby. Cum. Just cum. Cum all over my fucking hand as you say my name.”

That does it for him. That and the way Scott reaches down and cups at his balls, giving him a nice, firm squeeze.   
Stiles’ head hits the back of the wall with a thud and he’s whispering out filthy swear words as he mewls the name… “Scott….”  
Cum shoots out of him, the pearly thickness coating most of Scott’s hand.   
He feels himself twitching in Scott’s grip, his toes curling in his shoes as his hand tightens in reflex around Scott’s shaft.   
  
Enough lucidity to finish him off, Stiles wrings it from him, the orgasm.   
Scott’s cock spurts once, twice, then a third time, and the Alpha’s grunting so deeply right into Stiles’ neck, his length throbbing as he empties himself onto Stiles’ fist and the floor below.   
Stiles looks down with wide eyes, taking in the sight of his stained hand and the way Scott’s cum bleeds from his fingers.   
It’s so filthy. He can’t help himself as he brings his hand up to his face and licks at Scott’s hot, sticky Alpha seed.

“I take it you’re not breaking up with me then?” Stiles says with a soft laugh when Scott comes in for a taste of himself.   
  
“Mm, no, baby. Never. But Isaac and I are going to have a little talk later. That beta has stepped out of line for the last time.”  
  
Well, if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever, Stiles nearly whines at the aggressive tone and the jealousy behind it. He adores feeling so wanted.   
  
“That’s better. Now you smell like me. Just me,” Scott says with a pant, his forehead pressed to Stiles’. “Exactly how you should smell. You smell like me, you taste like me… you’re mine, Stiles.”

Stiles doesn’t know if he should beg him to take him right there, but probably the supply closet at school in the middle of the day is not the best idea.   
  
He writhes against his face instead.   
No doubt. Stiles wants to smell like Scott and no one else. Stiles is his and his alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isaac, you don't learn your lesson, do you?
> 
> :)


	5. The Parking Lot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott helps Stiles with his anxiety one morning before school. They end up talking so long in the Jeep that when things get heated it's almost dangerously public.

Stiles bangs his hands on the steering wheel of his Jeep.  
He doesn’t feel good. There have been butterflies in his stomach for days and they’re not the good kind. They don’t make him feel excited or horny – they simply fill him up with nerves, his tummy's in knots and his head's a mess.  
Stiles wishes they could just stay in high school. That he and Scott could repeat grade twelve until they were thirty.  
Much to his dismay, he knows that it’s just a matter of time before everything changes. An acceptance letter from Cornell University is shoved into his pocket-full ride.  
Part of him just wants to burn it, because the letter is a sure sign that things are evolving too fast for his liking. Instead of being over the moon that he got into such a good school – and on a scholarship- it means nothing to him but misery.  
What’s got him so literally twisted up is this: Scott got into the University of California-Berkeley. The schools -their worlds- couldn’t possibly be further apart come September.

“I can see that worried look on your face,” Scott says softly, a faint smile to his lips. He’s in the passenger seat of the Jeep, his dark brow creased in concern. “And you’re wearing it for no reason. Would you please stop freaking out about this?”

“Long-distance relationships never work,” Stiles insists, wistfulness stealing into his expression. “Never, Scott.”

The Alpha leans in, closing a palm over Stiles’ bicep. “Baby, you’re telling me that there’s not a _single_ long-distance relationship in the history of the world that’s worked? Ever?”

“Yes, they all _flopped_ , Scott.”

An overwhelming sense of protection steals into Scott’s chest. He removes his touch only to run his fingers through Stiles’ hair, his nails gently massaging over the boy’s scalp.  
“I get why you’re stressed, Stiles, but you don’t have to be. We’ll make this work. I promise. We can fly out to see each other on weekends, we’ll have the holidays here with our families. Now that your dad and my Mom are getting married we’ll be staying in the same house.  
And of course we’ll Facetime every day. It’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re never going to see each other again. You’ll see- 4 years will be over in a blink and then we can figure out grad school together.”

Scott’s making sense- and yet he isn’t. All of this might work on paper- and maybe there have been a few relationships that withstood the test of time and distance… but Stiles isn’t convinced. They haven’t even left high school yet and already Isaac nearly came between them. What about all those hunks at Berkeley?! How will Scott be able to resist them?  
“I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, Scott, but that’s exactly what it feels like to me. Like all I can see is a huge ticking clock counting down to the end of our relationship.”  
  
The brunette sighs as he hastily unbuckles his belt. He throws his head back against the plush rest, gripping the ridges of his seat cover tightly.  
Scott strokes Stiles’ cheek, down the expanse of his throat. He stops when he gets to his heart and flattens his hand there.  
“Baby, I promise you. It will be okay.”  
Stiles’ isn’t listening. His digits envelope Scott’s, bringing them to his lips for a quick peck. “And you’re gonna meet some fancy pre-vet dude with a nicer car than mine and marry him and live on a beach with fifty dogs or something.”

Chuckling, Scott shakes his head. “That’s the complete opposite of what’s going to happen, Stiles. Is that what you’re worried about? About me finding someone else?”

“Yes, of course!” Stiles rubs at the back of his neck. “You’re hot! Look at what happened with Isaac. Now imagine a campus full of Isaacs!”  
There’s a strain to his voice that makes it squeak.  
“First of all, Isaac wanted both of us and you’re the one who made out with him, remember? So if anything, I should be worried someone will steal _you_ away from me.”  
  
A narrow, lined face turns to look at him- a picture of grief. “I already apologized for that.”  
“I know, baby. And you got your punishment. I’m only bringing it up to make you understand that you’re hot and smart, too, and just as likely to be hit on. Okay?”  
  
Sighing so loud it makes his chest deflate, Stiles shakes his head.  
“What if you get tired of me not being there with you? What if you get lonely and you… you… I just… I love you, Scott, and I’m so scared about what’s going to happen to us. Things are so easy with us here. We get to see each other every day. But with college? I literally have to get a _plane_ just to kiss you. And I hate that, Scott. I don’t want to be that far away from you.”

Wet, dull eyes blink. Stiles feels tears welling up, his hands quickly rubbing at them to try to hide their brimming.  
He hears Scott blow air out of his nose, and a second later there’s the wonderful sensation of Scott’s hands on him.  
The next thing Stiles knows he’s being pulled into Scott’s lap, his hands gently resting on Scott’s shoulders. The Alpha’s staring up at Stiles with a solemn look – and Stiles with his honey gaze all soft and his head tilted looks back at him.

“Nothing bad is going to happen to us, Stiles,” Scott says with a whisper. “I promise you.”

“How can you guarantee that though? I don’t ever want us to break up. Ever. I don’t know what I’d do if that happened.”

“And I never want that to happen either,” Scott’s tone is soothing. Almost like one would talk to a child who’s irrationally upset.  
“You got into a great school, Stiles. You’re gonna get your bachelor’s for free and then if you want to be a freakin’ FBI agent you will be- if you want to get a Masters in Psych or Criminology and teach, you can do that, too. No matter what your dreams, you’ll make them happen. I know you will because I’ll be at your side cheering you on. _Everything will be okay.”_

Biting his lip, Stiles looks out the window for a second. The parking lot is empty. He and Scott got to school really early that morning. His reflection staring back at him in the dirty glass is perhaps even sadder than what Stiles is feeling.  
“What if I ditch the scholarship? I still have time to apply to Berkeley. Just as good a school.”

“Come again?” Scott raises an eyebrow. “Stiles, you’ve dreamt of going to an Ivy League school your whole life. You fucking got into Princeton AND Yale, too! It’s just Cornell fought so hard to have you they offered you a FULL RIDE. How in the world can you turn that down for me?!”  
“Maybe they’re all dicks on the East coast. Maybe this is the biggest mistake of my life.”  
  
There’s a hesitant tone in Stiles’ voice, his body is tense again and his lower lip quivers. He’s not quite sure how Scott’s been able to stay this calm. How can he be so sure it’s going to be okay?!  
And what if all this talk is letting Scott down, too? His boyfriend had been so excited for Stiles when he found out he got that letter in the mail – he had been proud as well, going on and on to everyone about how much Stiles deserved that scholarship because he’d worked so hard- his little genius.  
Stiles knows he needs that fucking scholarship, too, which is what’s making him furious – he knows what a dire financial situation his father’s dealt with these past years. Noah broke down into tears of relief when he found out he wouldn’t have to worry about his son taking out loans.  
But _Scott_.

Scott wags his head wildly.  
“You are not backing out of this. I’m not letting you do it. No way. And your dad would kill you AND me if you even dared bring it up.”

“I can get a job,” shrugged Stiles. “Pay for school with loans. We’d be together then, and I wouldn’t have to puke in the morning from nerves about what’s going to happen to us.”

“You puke in the morning?!”  
Scott’s hands land on the side of Stiles’ adorable face.  
Holding the boy’s cheeks tightly, Scott kisses his forehead.  
“I love you. I love you _so_ much. So much that I won’t let you throw away a scholarship to one of the best schools in the world for me. I promise that we’re going to get through this. I don’t care about all of those other people who couldn’t make their long-distance relationships work. They’re not us. We’re going to fight for this. For what we have. You’ll always be mine, Stiles. Always. And that mark on your neck proves it. We’re mates now, you understand me? Mates. No matter what happens, who I meet, you’re the only one for me. And I’m not going to let a few hundred miles come in the way of that.”

The words sooth Stiles, and he finds himself letting out a long breath that he’s been holding in for what seems like weeks. Scott always knows how to calm him down, to take it easy, to just relax. It’s just another of the many reasons why he loves him so much.  
He fingers the bite, the place where last week Scott officially claimed him as his mate. It still sears, the memory of his fangs penetrating makes his skin flush.  
It had happened in the middle of the night, after a long talk. After Scott’s realization and revelation that he’d found who he wanted.  
Probably the best, most passionate sex they’ve ever had ensued, leading up to the deciding moment.  
Stiles hasn’t regretted it and never will. Scott’s the only one for him.  
  
The sensation of possession is head. Stiles leans down, fingers gripping at the Alpha’s shirt, tugging at the soft material with a sigh. He finally feels a little relief – and something else stirs within him.   
He melts as Scott’s arms wrap around him, fingers dragging their way up his back as Scott pulls him close.  
Their tongues meet in a wild kiss. There’s still all kinds of tension in the car. A quick survey of the parking lot shows they’re still alone- and Stiles parked in the last row on purpose.  
  
Screw it- this is too hot to stop!  
“Scott, do you wanna…?”  
Stiles doesn’t finish the suggestion, their eager and desperate hands already pulling each other’s shirts off.

Stiles moans as he snakes past Scott’s shoulders, the tips of his digits gliding over Scott’s nipples for a moment.  
The Alpha hisses as they harden beneath the brush.  
  
The kissing is urgent and heated, sloppy. Even the inside of the car feels overly warm as Scott rocks his hips, his hardening cock rubbing up against Stiles’ already steely length.  
  
They moan into each other’s mouths at the contact, and a low growl rumbles in Scott’s chest, which is enough for Stiles to yank his jeans off. It takes a couple shifting movements, but Stiles does his best and gets Scott’s pants down as well – only bumping his head once in the process.  
“Fuck…”  
The couple laugh it off, their slick lips curled into smiles as they meet for another deep exploration of their mouths, soft hands wrapping around each other’s cocks.

A grunt leaves Scott that makes Stiles’ cock twitch.  
He loves that sound. Wants to hear it every single day for the rest of his life and the thought of that not happening makes him wince.  
Shying away from that truth for the moment, he decides to lose himself in Scott harder, faster, his hands twisting into Scott’s thick locks.  
  
“Fuck me, Scott…”

Scott’s way ahead of him. His hands have wondered down to Stiles’ ass, cupping the perfect cheeks.  
“Want you,” he announces as he gives them a hard squeeze.  
The Alpha pulls them apart, his long middle finger running along the crack of Stiles’ ass.  
“Fuck, no lube…” he moans.  
  
At this point Stiles is so gone he couldn’t care less about comfort. He’s been stretching out for a while now, sizing up on the plugs.  
“Go dry- use spit,” he says between pecks. “Just fuck me already.”  
  
Shit!  
For a second, Scott dances a finger across Stiles’ hole, a look of lust darkening on his face as he brings that same finger back up to his lips and sucks on it. He coats it in as much saliva as he can. He makes sure Stiles is watching him, his lover’s expression morphing into something utterly wrecked with need.  
“Jesus Christ, Scott.”  
  
With a smirk, another disappears into his mouth, and he just sucks and sucks, coating them in spit. This glistening mess, the secretions running down his hand… returns to Stiles’ ass, drenching the opening with it.

“Mm, Scott,” Stiles throws his head back with a whine. “Oh fuck, that feels good.”

Scott’s leaking so badly- all of this making him so incredibly hard he can barely contain his enthusiasm. The fact that they’re doing this at the school… that someone might be watching… the excitement is pure thrill.  
Smirking – his fingers glaze up and down Stiles’ ass, pushing into the pucker, scissoring, gaping him so wide so he can take all of his thickness soon.  
  
“Just wait till I put my cock in you.”

Holy hell… Stiles just can’t wait, that’s the thing- he’s helplessly whimpering now.  
All he wants is to feel Scott inside of him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head when Scott presses the tip of his cock against the tight ring, teasing him.  
“Do you want it?” he mutters, desire an edge on his voice.  
“Fuck yeah… I want it, Scott. Please fuck me.”  
  
Stile gasps, straddling Scott with trembling fingers as his boyfriend plunges into him without warning.  
It takes just seconds for Stiles to be filled deep with girth and length and he fucking loves it. He clings onto Scott harder, pushing his bruised lips up against Scott’s as he begins to shakily ride his Alpha.  
“Like that, baby… so good for me…”  
Stiles is sitting up and lowering his ass right onto Scott’s rod, and Scott seems rather happy to let him do the work as he lets out a series of expletives.  
  
Goddamn he’s tight. It’s something he’ll never get used to- or grow tired of.  
  
“Go…” he stutters “Go faster, Stiles.” 

Scott’s digging into Stiles’ ass cheeks. He’s holding them tight and keeping them parted and Stiles is weakening instead of picking up the pace so he takes over and just tunnels up into Stiles with increased urgency.  
“Let me do this, Stiles, you’re getting tired…just stay still for me, baby, and enjoy.”  
  
Legs spread as much as they can in this confined space, Stiles does just that- lets go. Hot breath against his neck, he encourages him with licks and nips. Stiles pants as Scott drives his swollen, throbbing length into his boyfriend, his nails digging into the boy’s soft skin for support.  
  
This fucking is an act of desperation, quick and dirty– with just the right amount of roughness that makes Stiles turn to jello.  
There’s nothing quite like seeing Scott lose himself to pleasure.

“Shit, Scott… I’m getting close…”  
He’s lost in the heat of the moment and the smell of sex and musk that’s quickly filling up his car is inebriating.  
The Alpha makes sure that each lunge into his ass counts – he moves Stiles’ body for him- up and down, up and down, so deep he can almost taste his dick.  
Fuck…. the clench that wraps around Scott’s length feels so good. Those thick ridges along Scott’s cock rubbing up along Stiles’ ass, just adding to the heated pleasure of what’s filling him up.

Stiles lets out a borderline embarrassing choked gasp when Scott’s hand finds his dick and tugs it for him wildly.  
“Don’t come until I tell you,” he orders.  
  
Oh fuck! Stiles thinks. He keeps saying stuff like that he WILL come.  
  
Scott’s frenzied jerking is so perfect that Stiles’ open palm lands on the car window, his fingers pressing into it for balance as Scott kisses at his neck and just _fucks_ him with both fist and shaft.  
It’s pure lust. Pure pleasure. Stiles grits his teeth, that sensitive spot, his mate mark, wet under Scott’s tongue and it makes him shudder.  
“Close?” Scott asks, breathless. 

“Scott,” Stiles whimpers. “Fuck Scott. Yes. Yes, yes, yes. So close. Ooh, I’m so fucking close.”

“You gonna cum for me baby?” Scott asks lowly. “Gonna cum when I tell you to?”

Jesus!! “Mhm! Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

“Be a good boy for me and cum for me NOW..”  
  


He does. A lot. He comes so much it’s a creamy river down Scott’s sternum.  
“Oh my god!”  
Stiles groans, his eyebrows furrowed as he stares down at the mess he’s made on Scott’s chest.  
And then Stiles feels Scott pulling his cock out of his ass, and Stiles literally whimpers at the loss of feeling all stretched out and full.  
“What?”  
Scott’s pumping his slick-covered cock. He looks up at Stiles with a smirk, one eyebrow raised as he works his own length up and down. He twists his hand, fingers nice and tight around his base.

“Why the fuck did you stop?” Stiles whimpers.

“You brought that butt plug with you, right?” Scott wonders with a bright grin. His eyes are glimmering mischief. “Is it in your bag?”

“Yeah…”  
  
Holy shit, Stiles thinks. He knows just where this is going and behind the lust fog blinding him he grabs for his bag with a shaky hand.

“Mm, give it to me.”

Stiles does…his eyebrows raise as he watches Scott suck at it, his pretty lips wrapping around the toy, completely coating it in spit.  
With one hand wrapped around his cock and the other on the toy, he reaches behind Stiles, pressing the tip of the plug into Stiles’ ass.  
“Perfect.”  
“When did you get to be so lewd, Scott?” Stiles wonders, already getting half hard at the idea he knows is coming.

“Hold it. Have it ready as soon as I pull out. I’m gonna come so hard inside you, fill you up with my come. And you’re going to walk around with it all day. Will you do that for me? Be a good little cum whore for me?”  
  
What the hell has gotten into him?! How fucking hot is this?!  
  
“Scott I really like who you’re becoming,” Stiles quips, taking the shiny plug from him.

Scott’s been jerking himself this whole time, now so close to orgasm he can almost hear his come sloshing inside his mate.  
He lines up and inserts himself into Stiles once more.  
  
“Oh, Scott,” whines Stiles. “Feels good.”

“Mm. Really good.”

With that, Scott starts back.  
He’s so hard he’s twitching. His thighs are soaked from the pre-cum that’s spilled from his tip and coated his cock, making it all the easier to fuck Stiles proper.  
  
Very much aware that the parking lot is going to be crowded soon--- pretty sure he’s already seen one car park up a ways in his peripheral vision, he needs to be quick.  
No problem. With how turned up he is by now, it’ll take seconds.  
Stiles’ lips move against Scott’s in a fast kiss. Stiles reaches down to graze Scott’s balls with the tip of the plug- hurrying things along. He really wants his Alpha’s come… NEEDS it.

“Fill me up, Scott. Fuck me so hard that you fill me up all the way…”  
Aaaand that’s what does it.  
Scott grunts, head thrown back against the seat as his cock twitches and he spills one of the biggest loads of his life into his mate.  
He’s breathing so deep it’s almost wheezy. Stiles’ ass tensing, wrings out those last few drops of jizz from his cock… and then it’s over.  
“I’m gonna pull out now, Stiles, get ready.” Scott barely manages because he honestly feels like he’s going to pass out.  
  
The member slides out with a loud sigh of bliss from Stiles and a shiver from his Alpha.  
Stiles pushes the plug in, not one drop escaping.  
He doesn’t forget to dip a finger into the sticky mess still coating Scott’s cock and he sucks the digit into his mouth.  
  
“When did we get to be so dirty?” Stiles laughs.

“Fuck,” Scott’s still writhing beneath him. “We gotta start every morning like this,” he snorts.  
“That’s not a bad idea…” he comes in for a kiss.  
Fixing Stiles’ bangs with a look of sheer adoration painting his face, Scott whispers  
“Now you be a good for me and keep it in your pretty ass all day. How does that sound? Can you do that for me? Concentrate on it. Feel my hot Alpha come inside you, swishing around. I promise it’ll be worth your while later tonight.”

A muffled gasp escapes Stiles’ lips.   
And he’s hard again.

***

Stiles’ hair is messy as he digs through his locker. He hadn’t bothered fixing it when he got out of the car – besides, the butt plug that’s wedged nice and deep in his ass, coated in Scott’s sperm, is the only thing he can really focus on.  
That and how Scott keeps sending him lust filled looks as he leans up against the locker next to his.

“I can’t wait until school is over,” Scott murmurs. “It’s gonna be so much fun...”

Stiles is just about to answer when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around, eyebrows a question mark when he sees Danny standing there, wearing a beautiful blush.

“Oh, hey Danny,” Stiles says with a nod. “What’s up? You feeling warm or something? You’re all red.”

“Hi,” the boy smiles shyly. “I just… I just wanted to come say good morning. We haven’t really had a chance to talk lately, have we?”

“Uh, I guess not,” Stiles mutters as he tugs on his earlobe. Do we really ever talk? he asks himself.

“So, uh, I,” Danny throws Scott a glance and then he stares at his shoes and then it’s back to Stiles. “I got to school early today,” Danny licks his lips. “Was tryna catch up on some homework. I saw your car, thought I’d come say hello, and then I saw… I saw something rather _unexpected_.”

Stiles pales, heart plummeting to his feet. Scott’s jaw drops.  
Fuck. Scott scratches a finger into his temple. How did they not see him? What is he, a ninja?  
  
“Oh,” Stiles whispers. “Listen- we were…”

Danny raises a hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna tell anyone what I saw or anything,” he chuckles. “I just wanted to tell you that what I saw was super hot. I’m not gonna lie, I jerked off in the bathroom to it just now. I… Stiles, I think you’re looking really good these days. Really good. I didn’t think you were my type before, but… that’s definitely changed. You’re more than my type. Thanks for the show. Wouldn’t mind joining in next time. I like wearing plugs, too.”

Danny turns around at that – but not before sending Stiles a not-so-subtle wink. “Bye Scott.”

“Danny, what the fuck?” Scott screams, arms thrown up in the air in sheer annoyance. “That’s my _boyfriend_ , dude!”

But Danny doesn’t acknowledge that. Instead Stiles rests up against the locker, doing his best to take in the thought of Danny seeing him like that. Goddamn.  
And he jerked off to them?!

“Is there a reason why everyone is trying to steal you away from me?” mutters Scott. “Why does everyone want to fuck my boyfriend?!”

Stiles has to laugh at that… feeling oddly attractive for once.  
“It’s because you’re dating a total babe, Scott,” Stiles mutters, but he makes sure to give Scott a little nudge. “You don’t have to worry about Danny. I definitely don’t want anyone else doing that to me. Ever. Besides, you’re my mate. I’d rather face certain death than break that bond, baby.”

Scott smiles, and the boys share a quick but sweet kiss before the bell rings and cuts them off.   
Stiles isn’t really sure where the sudden interest from Danny and Isaac had stemmed from. He’s not sure he wants to know why, regardless.   
All he knows is that he wants nothing to do with them, and everything to do with the cute wolf boy next to him, reaching for his hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking a couple more chapters and then I'm going to wrap this one up. Hope you're enjoying it!


	6. Graduation - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Congrats to the class of...  
> The boys graduate. Coach has a talk with his boys... and offers them some pamphlets?!

Stiles cringes when he feels Coach Finstock’s strong grip digging into his shoulders. The digits are firm even through the thick material of his graduation gown and the fancy, long-sleeved shirt his Dad forced him to wear. 

Scott is right next to him, throwing him a stare he knows all too well: it’s that annoyed, iris-blown _please can we get out of here_ look, and Stiles has to hold back a laugh. Coach has his palm clasped over Scott’s shoulder as well, and he’s pulling both boys into him with shaky tugs, their faces practically squished into his chest as he sniffles slightly.

His azure eyes are shimmering- he’s vicariously living fatherhood through their existences.  
  
“Boys, I just want you to know how proud I am of the both of you,” Coach breathes. “You guys could have totally flunked high school. And you kinda did, at least socially.”  
The “compliment” is accompanied by a slow wag of his sooty head.  
“You both sucked most of the time. Scott, you redeemed yourself in lacrosse, but Stiles... you were one of the worst lacrosse players I’ve ever seen, after Greenberg of course.”  
  
Coach sighs, and the next phrase is almost an afterthought. “God, I hate Greenberg.”  
  
Stiles is stifling a chortle so badly his entire face is flushing crimson.  
“Coach… we kinda can’t breathe,” Scott hiccups, wondering if this episode will make his asthma come back.  
  
Finstock just keeps rattling on, despite their squirming. “There were a lot of days where I thought about punching you both in the face, but I pushed through.” It kinda sounds like Coach is proud of himself, too. 

“Um, thanks Coach?!” Scott deadpans, his voice a little muffled thanks to Coach smothering him.

“You’re welcome. And Stilinski… I’ll perhaps miss you most.” Coach gives Stiles an encouraging pat on the bicep. “I never found out what you wanted to do with those chains in your locker, thank God. I’m pretty sure it was something so profoundly disturbing it would have pushed me that inch over the edge into alcoholism. Jesus, I already drink to forget my miserable career, so…”  
  
Coach cracks his gum and gives their arms another squeeze.  
  
“Coach.. we kinda have to… ” snorts Stiles.

“What makes me most proud, though?” He's on a roll.   
OH MY GOD is what Stiles wants to scream…  
“Is that you both got through it together,” Coach carries on. He’s nodding now, staring off into the distance like he’s watching a tribute film about their relationship.  
  
The hallway, filled with the sounds of chattering and laughing, is looking increasingly tempting to the couple still hostage in Coach’s arms. There are excited students buzzing around everywhere, it looks like Hogwarts got out early with the whispering of gown fabric and well-groomed faces surveying the place.  
  
“And you’re _still_ together. You’re boyfriend and boyfriend. Exactly how it should be. You know the other teachers and I had bets on when you’d break up – but you know what I said? I said _nope_. Not those two love birds… they’re gonna be together forever. How gay love is meant to be.”  
Scott mouths “OH MY GOD” to a Stiles who no longer knows if he’s on the verge of weeping from laughter or lack of oxygen.  
  
“I told them… “ Coach is gone now. On his own planet. “I told them y'all watch... those two are gonna ride off into the sunset like Romeo and Juliet did. Happily ever after.”  
  
“Uh,” Scott raises an already cocked eyebrow further. “Coach…Romeo and Juliet didn’t-”

“Shut up, McCall," Coach cuts the boy off. "Don't break my concentration. So I was saying... now look at ya!”   
Another gum crack. Now he’s blinking unbidden tears away… “And look at me. I won fifty bucks today. I’m so happy.”

Stiles falls apart, he can’t take it anymore and explodes into a chortle. The mixture of fondness and pride in Coach’s voice is endearing but it is not saving them from the comedic moment of this entire ridiculous conversation.  
  
“Boys, now I don’t know if you’ve had sexual relations or not yet.”  
WHAT?!   
Stiles stiffens and Scott pales slightly, his crooked chin dropping. Biting into his lower lip, Stiles has huge drops falling down the wings of his nose.   
  
“But I used to be the sex ed teacher, and our curriculum is all encompassing. So I have some pamphlets I’ve printed back in my office… if you have any questions…I’ll always be your Coach. Door’s always open, boys. Nothing is taboo. I've got literature on prostate stimulation and butt plugs and... ”  
  
Coach is still gripping them both tight – like he and Scott are his sons and he’s never experienced a moment so beautiful…while talking about gay sex.  
If Stiles could free himself to facepalm he would.  
  
Mercifully, Scott hears names being called and the loud signs of the auditorium doors opening.  
It’s time.  
Graduation’s about to officially begin and this is their excuse to get away from their Coach and apparently sexual mentor?!   
  
“Well, Coach, thanks for that emotional, rousing, and dare I say inappropriate speech…” Stiles says, patting the dark-haired man on the back. “But it looks like we’re going in now. But I’m so happy you won that money. You won that bet, Scott and I are still together…not gonna lie, kinda offended some teachers thought we’d break up, though, but it’s okay…”  
  
“That’s ‘cause they’re idiots, Stilinski,” Coach says, slowly decreasing the pressure on his hold. “That’s because they’re idiots.”  
  
He FINALLY releases the young men, giving them a shove back into the line he had pulled them out of a few moments ago. “Live long and prosper, boys.”  
  
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” Scott asks under his breath when they get out of earshot. Rubbing at the back of his head, Stiles just watches as Coach wanders out of the hall and into the auditorium, probably getting ready to take his seat with the rest of the staff.

“Was he drunk? And is it weird that I’m gonna miss him?” Stiles asks Scott with a smirk playing on his face. 

“To answer your questions, yes and yes. But I get it. I’m honestly a little sad that we won’t get to hear his loud, obnoxious voice insulting us every day,” Scott nods. “How ‘bout that?”

Stiles and Scott are practically dragged back into the line a second later by a very annoyed usher. And they’re separated to boot– the students being reminded time and time again about the importance of staying in alphabetical order.

They all pile inside, and Stiles keeps his head poised. Part of him feels like _he’ll_ cry if he sees his dad crying… so there won’t be any looking at Noah until he gets his diploma.  
  
It goes smoothly. More than Stiles thought. The people who officiate are fairly good in moving things along.  
Lydia gives the valedictorian speech, of course, and then it’s mere minutes before this year’s class will say goodbye to Beacon.

Stiles feels butterflies as he waits for his name to be called. He’s fidgeting in his seat so much he accidentally elbows Natalia Stachowska, who keeps rolling her blue eyes at him.  
He gestures solidarity at them for being fellow Poles, both he and she have Polish flag pins on their gown… but she’s not having it and barely pays any attention to him except to throw him eye darts when he shifts.   
“Jerk,” he mumbles under his breath.  
  
A short time later, with a soft whimper, he watches as Scott’s name is called. His lover's hair is neatly slicked back and he looks beyond handsome in his cap and gown. Stiles literally feels his heart flutter as he looks at the boy he loves so much receiving his well-earned certificate. With Stiles' help, he really buckled down and got his grade-point average high enough to get into a couple great schools.   
Melissa and Noah are sitting together, and she’s taking probably 600 pictures while Stiles’ Dad does the video.  
  
This is all so familiar. This is Stiles’ bliss- his world. Everything about waking up tomorrow is scaring the shit out of him.  
All he wants to do is stop time in its tracks. Graduating means school finishing. No Beacon in the fall. No lacrosse.  
It means he’s a Cornell man now, and Christ if he ever becomes as annoying about it as that guy on The Office he’s going to beg Scott to shoot him in the head with his father’s gun.  
Shit. Scott.  
The biggest stressor of all. His mate and one and only love. They’ve come so far… individually and as a couple. Stiles wouldn’t be as centered as he is, (nor as sexually experienced and open-minded) if it hadn’t been for Scott, his anchor.  
What will being on two different coasts mean for them?!

Stiles doesn’t want to think about it. Instead he just gets up on shaky legs when he hears his name being called after Natalia’s.  
Some of her family flew in from Krakow and there’s a handful of really pale, straw-haired folk cheering her on with “Ale ona szybko dorastała!” ( _Boy did she grow up fast)_ and ”Gratulacje Natalka!”

Now it’s his turn. He hears his dad whooping in the audience, along with Melissa calling out his name and whistling. The kind gestures make him smile, and when he gets on stage, his eyes turn all glassy and wet when he sees the look on his Dad’s face.  
The man eyes are crinkled thanks to the huge grin on his face, he's so damn happy it cuts Stiles' heart in two. And when Stiles dares glance at Scott – his mate is clapping with a white gleam for a smile and his chocolate eyes are a twinkle that even puts the stars to shame.  
  
He's so loved, and it makes Stiles swallow back the hard lump in his throat. As he grabs his diploma with an iron grip, and does his best to blink back the briny tears welling, he lets out a huge sigh.   
  
It's over.   
  
Stiles is going to miss Scott, and his Dad… and his soon-to- be stepmom so bad. He hates to admit it but he' ll even miss Isaac fucking Lahey who is being his usual obnoxious self and blowing him kisses from the crowd!  
  
Most of his developing years, all he ever wanted to do was get out of Beacon Hills. Be in the FBI. Make a difference somehow. Save people.   
Now, if he could wish a perfect world upon himself… nothing would keep him from staying and keeping close and safe these things and these people he cherishes more than anything else.   
  
Perhaps change won't be that bad. Maybe even this challenge will make them grow?   
Doesn't true love win at the end?  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two tomorrow kids!  
> I'm not crying your'e crying at the boys "all growed up" now.


	7. Graduation - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening of their big day- there are plenty of surprises in store. The boys take a minute to be alone before all the festivities begin.

***  
  
When it was all over, Stiles was emotionally exhausted. The entire day was sensory and sentimental overload: All the events leading up to the ceremony… Coach’s little speech… graduating. His mind that wouldn’t stop doing cartwheels over every tiny change that was about to take place…  
When they ended up back at the McCall’s, as Melissa had to pack up some food for their joint graduation dinner that same evening, Stiles excused himself claiming a migraine and passed out crying in Scott’s room. He threw himself onto the bed face down, cuddled up against one of his boyfriend’s dirty t-shirts. He scrunched the fabric up against his nose to have his scent near and the fingers of his free hand twisted into the blankets for comfort.  
  
Noah and Scott exchanged a few concerned glances but then busied themselves with packing up the decorations and other items needed, leaving him to rest. They both knew Stiles well enough to allow him space when he got this way.  
  
It was clear Stiles was taking things very hard. Scott could smell the sadness on him from a mile away. Even if he hadn’t known him inside out, thus able to discern that his passive stare and creased brow meant distress, the fact that he barely said a word on the way home ... just fiddling with the tassle from his cap, was more than troubling.  
Seeing the person he loved in such a state was wringing him inside out. What kept him from invading Stiles’ need for space was knowing that in just a few hours they’d have a little time to spend together before the party.  
  
Eventually Stiles woke up and clambered down the steps, face ruddy but the rest of his features appearing a little more relaxed. Melissa still had to decorate two cakes, so Noah decided he would run the first load over to the Italian-style banquet hall they’d rented for the big joint affair.  
  
Picking up on the not-so-subtle hints that their sons needed a bit of alone time, (to be fair they’d barely interacted during the entire event), they gently suggested the boys get dressed and go on ahead without them, giving them a fake errand to run.  
(There were about 700 powder blue napkins packed up in one of the boxes, but Scott agreed to go buy more on their way. He was clued in and was very appreciative of their sensibility).  
  
A little while later, while Stiles was in the shower, Scott hugged his Mom from behind, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. He didn’t even have to say anything- she just patted his hand, kissed him on the cheek, and whispered “Don’t wait too long, Scott. He needs to know the truth and really can’t handle any more upset today... but with the party and all. Sweetheart, break it to him gently.”  
  
The Alpha nodded solemnly as she helped him slip on his dress shirt. Hopefully all this news would not fuck everything up.  
  
_  
  
Stiles and Scott are sitting in the jeep, dressed up in clothes that cost more than their monthly allowances. Stiles has a nervous grip on the wheel- white-knuckled- and is driving a bit aggressively.  
There’s a tension to his jaw and whenever Scott glances over, the steel ball in his stomach doing chutes and ladders all over his guts, he sighs.  
He has to tell him soon.  
  
It’s just about four miles to the banquet hall, and while Stiles is usually beyond happy to be digging into some pasta, all he’s able to think about is how badly he just wants Scott to stay with him. Right next to him. Forever.  
  
Knowing the answer but throwing it out anyway, a furtive glance accompanies the question. “Wanna take a little detour before dinner?” asks Stiles. “We can have some alone time before we’re bombarded with questions from our relatives.”  
  
“Let’s do it,” Scott answers without hesitation, knowing this is full well what even their own parents had intended to happen. His hand lands gently on Stiles’ thigh.

Holding back a whimper at the touch, Stiles drives over to some construction area he knows is empty at night. This may not be the romance he expected on their first night together as adults and _graduates,_ but it’s what he needs to happen.  
  
He just wishes away the world- that everyone leave him alone for a little while as he gets lost in the scent, the taste, the feeling of the boy next to him.  
Scott.  
 _His_ Scott.  
  
As soon as he parks the car he unbuckles his seat belt. Scott opens his mouth to speak, but Stiles takes it as a sign that he wants to kiss.  
“Backseat…jackets and shirts off… pants folded… boxers only” Stiles orders and doesn’t even wait for his love to react. Let's bring on even more of the romcom atmosphere!   
  
If there were a soul around to spy on them... they’d look ridiculous, two teens jumping in place, each at their respective side of the car, undressing in the pale light of construction security lamps.  
Once they’re shifted to the more comfortable location and their clothes are neatly (though hurriedly) folded over the dash, Stiles climbs onto Scott, straddling his powerful legs as they kiss long and deep.  
It’s a rushed kiss. Frantic. This whole thing is electric because in Stiles’ mind it’s timed to perfection so they’re not late to the dinner. Being the guests of honor, it would look terrible if they kept their families waiting- only to show up disheveled and flushed.

“Mm, baby,” Scott whispers against Stiles’ pouty lips, skin prickling under his roving touch. “You’re _eager_.”

“I’m always like that with you,” pants Stiles. He’s tugging at Scott’s underwear, pulling it down with a low groan. “You have no idea what you do to me. What you make me think, what you make me feel.”

“Wanna show me?” Scott asks lowly, momentarily forgetting about what he has to do. His own warm hands are gliding down Stiles’ back, pulling down the elastic of his boxers in one rushed yank.

Stiles moans like he’s never been touched before. He leans forward, pulling Scott’s lips to his, their thirsty tongues dancing together in a wild, hot kiss.  
The car fills with the heady scent of musk and sex… as Stiles grinds into Scott he becomes even more desperate to be one with him. Scott must be of the same idea because a second later he feels Scott’s hard cock pressing up against him.  
It makes him shudder.

“Want you to take me,” Stiles whispers. “Please. Just want you to make me feel good and forget about everything. I love you, Scott.”

The Alpha fights back against that hunger that spikes inside him. He bites into his bottom lip instead, and his eyes darken onyx as his nails dig into Stiles’ perfect ass cheeks, spreading them apart.  
“Scott,” Stiles rocks forward, their foreheads touching. "Do it."  
  
A teasing finger inches along the crack of Stiles’ ass, pressing into his opening. Scott brings his hand up to his mouth, a filthy sound hitting Stiles’ ears as he watches Scott spit onto his digits.  
A moment later, those same tips are invading Stiles’ hole.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” Stiles grunts, extending his legs as far as they’ll go… the brushes on his gland make his knees tremble.   
Stiles can't take it anymore, and time is of the essence. "Do it, Scott... I'm ready. Please."  
  
Scott is the one moaning louder now, his hips rocking against Stiles until he picks the boy up a little and grabs his twitching cock. Holding his length with one hand, Scott positions his own swollen tip against Stiles’ pucker, inching in slowly.

“Oh, fuck,” Stiles whines. His hands bear down on Scott’s shoulders and as soon as he feels the soft skin of Scott's balls against the backs of his thighs, he bounces. It feels amazing, working his insides along Scott’s thick length, feeling perfectly full and stretched out.  
His eyes flutter shut as he lets the pleasure take over, his movements now more frenetic… harder.  
They don’t have much time and all Stiles wants to do is just feel Scott _everywhere_.

Delicious sounding grunts are leaving Scott’s plush lips as he cups at Stiles’ ass. He guides him into a rhythm, making every single thrust count.

Stiles is blissed out. Cornell and graduation and the party are so far away. His skin is a blazing canvas and Scott is trying to douse the fire with tongue and touch.  
  
All Stiles can feel is heat and pleasure and all of Scott’s magnificent cock tunneling within… Jesus Christ, he’s in love.  
“God, fuck, baby,” Scott groans. “God, you feel so fucking good. I’m.. I’m getting close, baby.”

The words send shivers through him, make Stiles melt into him, whimpering as he kisses at Scott, his tongue delving deep into his lover who just won’t let up with his sharp movements.  
Stiles circles his arms around Scott’s neck, feeling the shift within his sex. They’re sharing such a desperate, heated kiss it makes Stiles’ cock throb… it’s only a matter of time now.  
“Scott,” Stiles pants wildly. “It’s getting critical over here, baby.”

When Stiles utters those words Scott just takes him with abandon, trying to bring them both home. A gasp catches in Stiles’ throat and he arches his back. Squeezing at the crown of his own thick length, Stiles breaks.  
“Fuck, oh, fuck,” Scott stutters a second later. The Alpha moves for two more strokes, the lunges are slower, deeper, no longer desperate. And then he stills, lungs deflating as hot air hisses from between his lips.  
He’s emptied himself completely.

“Oh, God,” Stiles manages to let out. He lets his body go limp and falls against Scott’s, his head on Scott’s chest, heart racing within his ribcage as he shudders the last tremors of orgasm away. There's so much release it's already leaking down in hot rivulets, following the pulsing artery of his inner thigh.   
  
“Stiles… I… “  
The heat of the moment is gone almost as quickly as it came, and instead of being thrilled that they had this gorgeous moment…Stiles is reminded that college is just around the corner, and that means encounters like the one they just shared will require a drive... and a plane trip… and then another drive.  
  
“I’m gonna miss you so much, Scott,” he says out of nowhere.  
  
Scott stiffens. This is it. The opening. He has to come clean.  
  
“Stiles… I have to tell you something.”  
Stiles springs up, eyes so saucered they’re nearly white in terror. “Oh my god, you’re breaking up with me. I knew it! Oh my god, Scott, why? Why are you breaking up with me?”  
  
Scott chuckles, shaking his curls loose. It’s been a while since he dealt with the freaked out version of his human.  
“Stiles… breathe. Look at me. I’m not breaking up with you.”  
“You’re not?” he sniffles, chest heaving for a whole other set of reasons now.  
  
“Why would I break up with you when we’re gonna be living together?” wonders Scott.

Stiles’s nose twitches and he rolls his eyes. “That’s not funny, Scott.” He’s got an accusatory finger in the air. “Not fucking funny.”

“What’s not funny?” Scott sits up, bracketing his face. “I’m being serious. We can get an apartment near Collegetown or downtown Ithaca. Just as long as it’s equidistant between Ithaca and Cornell,” Scott murmurs. “I don’t wanna be late for class.”

The words make Stiles shake his head, as if what he’s hearing has sent marbles flying around his brain. He stares down at Scott with slightly narrowed eyes, rubbing his elbow.  
“Why would we need an apartment near Ithaca?”

Scott shrugs lazily. “Maybe because once you got into Cornell I had a talk with my Mom. Maybe because my uncle went to Ithaca College and my dad for once was useful and put in a rec letter from an FBI agent saying his son’s dream has always been to be a vet and that he comes from a broken home but he’s good inside... in fact he’s better than his own father in character… that he’d also be caring for his poor ailing Great Aunt who happens to live near Cornell which would opt him out of the freshman dorm obligation.”  
  
Stiles’ pulses is drowning out the rest. He’s still stuck on… Scott going to ITHACA COLLEGE?!  
It’s not exactly registering yet, what all this means.  
“By the way, the Great Aunt is you. I threatened my dad bodily harm if he didn’t add that bit about my humanitarian nature. So that’s where I’m going. I got my letter the other day. Looks like we’ll both be moving to New York, baby. It’ll be like Gossip Girl. Without the drama.”

“Wait, are you being serious?!” Stiles asks suspiciously, though a smirk is beginning to creep on his face.  
Okay. Okay. He’s about to faint. All the blood that was in his dick now doesn’t know where to go…and he feels faint.  
(He also ignores Scott’s silly Gossip Girl joke in the process. They can talk about improving his sense of humor later).  
  
“Yes, Stiles. Ithaca… Near your school.”

“OH MY GOD!” Stiles falls on him. Peppers his face in kisses and smothers him with his lips.  
When they pull off, Scott looks him straight in the eyes. “You don’t have to worry about us being _long_ _distance_ now. We’ll be together. You’re probably gonna get sick of me, though…”

Stiles wildly shakes his head. Is he joking? SICK of his one and only?!  
But something is bugging Stiles and he needs to ask. “Why didn’t you tell me until the very last minute? I’ve been going crazy, Scott. You saw me.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you, baby,” Scott says with a strained face. He feels awful. “I didn’t have the acceptance letter, like I said it came just the other day. I didn’t want to give you false hope. I know you were stressed about it and finals and all... so I am SO sorry. Forgive me?”  
  
He gives him that famous McCall pout before breaking into a huge smile. Stiles looks at him in wonder. As if he could stay mad at him.  
“I love you. And I can’t wait for us to move in together. It’s gonna be perfect. Scott, you’ve left me speechless.”

Stiles is honest about that. He isn’t sure what to feel. There’s a mix of emotions as he takes in Scott’s playful grin. Any slight anger he may have had towards Scott’s surprise faded the second he got a look at that pretty smile and those gorgeous chocolate eyes.  
  
Stiles is over the fucking moon about the news. His heart is soaring at the thought of them living together, and his mind fills up with domestic images of them having their own apartment and …their own bed… and their own living room. _And their own bed._  
They would be together. _Properly_. A real couple.   
  
Stiles paws at Scott playfully, unable to string any words together. He knows they’re slightly late now as he’d scheduled enough time for a quickie and not a quickie with deep conversation about poorly kept secrets. In fact, his phone is buzzing in his pocket – it’s most likely his dad sending him pissed off text messages about keeping him waiting – but right now, all he cares about is Scott and this AMAZING revelation.  
  
There’s a withering on Scott, though. The momentarily light of joy glimmering in those dark eyes… fades. And with that Stiles is returning to panic mode in 3, 2, 1…  
“What’s wrong, Scott? What else aren’t you telling me?”  
  
Scott sucks up his lip, looks from his fingers folded over his spent member back up to Stiles’ large umber orbs. “It’s not _bad_ news… We’re just not sure how you’re going to take it.”  
  
Doing a double take, Stiles reaches over and clasps his hand in Scott’s. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be fine, Scott. And who’s _we_??”  
  
Scott’s long lashes blink open and shut, and a faint smile curls the corners of his ruby mouth. “Stiles, it’s my Mom. She’s four months pregnant with twins. We’re going to have two half-brothers around Halloween.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters to go, kids! I'll be sad to see this fic go but I thank you for coming along on the ride.


	8. The Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles move in to their new place in Ithaca.  
> Jackson pays them an unexpected visit.

Melissa feels useless. She’s watching all her boys buzz around the apartment and all she can do is stand there, back to the fridge and hands folded over her enormous belly.  
A sizeable engagement ring sparkles under the afternoon light as it sits right next to her new wedding band- beautiful, shiny platinum with an engraved vine that holds the initials of all her “family.”  
The wedding took place just three weeks earlier- it was quite the event and thinking back to it, it still makes her smile. She was radiant despite her 6-month pregnancy curves having forced her to purchase another wedding dress. Most of Beacon Hills’ best showed up and it was truly a blessed ceremony.  
  
Turning over the container of food they got for lunch, Melissa zones out as she plays the memories back in her mind’s eye. She can’t help but marvel at how much her life has changed over the course of 12 months. (As has Scott’s, for that matter). He hasn’t stopped grinning since they started their road trip 5 days ago and it honestly makes her heart soar.  
  
This is all she wanted for Scott, for her son to find a nice person to share his life with- be loved by. The way Stiles looks at him when he’s not aware- Melissa’s caught those stolen glances and the young man she now calls her stepson is so devoted to Scott it has sometimes literally made her cry from joy.  
They both deserve only the brightest of futures.

The decision to come and move the boys in was mutual. Taking the opportunity to turn the long drive into a mini-vacation, she and the men could take in a few sights that had been on her bucket list for a while.  
(The Grand Canyon was disappointing compared to Bryce- but it didn’t matter. She and Noah were enjoying their sons one last time before they started their lives – and university studies- in New York state).

She will miss Scott terribly, she thinks, but something tells her that in two months time she won’t have much room- or energy- to dwell on his absence.  
As one twin uses her bladder as a punching bag, she winces.  
“I’m sorry I’m not doing anything, guys. But I swear I’ll heat up this fried chicken like a pro.”  
  
Scott chuckles as he saunters past, carrying more stuff into the bedroom. “Just rest, Mom. We got this.”  
“Running down to the van, Mel,” Noah yells as he heads back out to get the last of the suitcases.  
  
The boys’ new apartment is gorgeous. Scott’s Dad was actually being nice for once- _and helpful_ \- and had found them a great two-bedroom exactly 20 minutes drive from both campuses. It was exceptionally spacious and clean, furnished simply but with a refined taste. Compared to some places college kids normally lived in, this was a palace.  
Since his name was on the lease and he was subletting to his son, Rafe was able to secure something more “adult” on the promise that Scott wouldn’t throw any ragers and get them kicked out.  
Now that they had each other, Scott and Stiles weren’t really looking to party- and there would be plenty of occasions to do that on their respective campuses if the mood ever struck them. It was an easy promise to make to Agent McCall.  
  
Stiles breaks Melissa’s reverie when he drops a box on the counter marked “Kitchen stuff” in what Scott lovingly refers to as his “sociopathic scrawl.”  
He leans in, seeing her a bit “absent.”  
“Mom, you okay?”  
Pressing a kiss to her cheek, she blushes terribly, both at the term of endearment and the peck. (She’s still getting used to him using that name).  
  
Melissa would have never asked to be called that, but Stiles insisted even before she and Noah got married. He was also incredibly sweet about it. He’d come to her one evening while Scott was taking a shower and asked if he could, if it would offend her if he did.  
“I haven’t had a mother for so long, Melissa. It’d be nice to call someone that again- and I couldn’t have wished for a better person to step into that role.”  
  
She was already hormonal from the pregnancy but she had burst into tears, embracing him so tight he had to beg for air.  
Noah sure raised this boy right, she’d thought.  
“I’m okay, honey. Just tired. Little Claudio and Cailen are a bit restless.” Her palm travels over to where her kidney lies and she exhales through her teeth. “I swear they’re making it their mission for me to pee every 15 minutes.”  
Leaning down, Stiles puts an ear to her stomach and whispers to his half-brothers. “Hey guys, how about giving your Mom a break, huh?”  
  
Just months ago she was terrified at how Stiles would have taken the news, not only of her impending marriage to his father- but also of being pregnant with not one but TWO babies.  
Instead, he was an absolute treasure. When she and Noah told their sons they were naming one of the boys in Claudia’s memory, and the other after Scott’s grandfather, any reservations Stiles might have had dissipated immediately.  
  
“That’s the last of it,” Noah announces as he drops three suitcases in the middle of the living room. Brushing the back of his hand over his forehead, he waits to catch his breath.   
“I’ll grab those, Dad,” Stiles runs over. “I’ll put them in the bedroom so the living room doesn’t get too cluttered.”  
  
Noah throws Melissa a knowing smirk. Even though the apartment has two bedrooms, it was obvious the boys would be using one. Neither parent was dumb, blind, and above all _deaf_ … both she and the sheriff had overheard their sons in the thralls of pleasure on several occasions. (The kids tried to be quiet but didn’t always succeed in stifling their moans).  
It wasn’t an argument that even needed broaching. As soon as they’d entered the apartment both had dropped the first of the boxes into the larger room and that was that.  
  
“So what are you going to do with the extra room?” Melissa asks when Stiles returns to the kitchen.  
Folding his arm over his chest, Stiles ruffles his hair with his free hand.  
“Um, we were thinking of keeping it a guest bedroom, for when you guys come visit or Agent McCall comes to town. Just extra closet space, too, and if Scott ever pisses me off he can go sleep in there.”  
Stiles winks and Noah shakes his head, a rib-expanding howl making him shake all over.  
“Someone say my name?” Scott pops in, wiping sweat from his brow.  
“Yeah,” Stiles interjects, “I was telling our parents I’m going to banish you to the guest bedroom if you piss me off.”  
“Ha ha. I think if anyone’s likely to get a time-out it’s you, Stiles.”  
  
_  
  
 _A month later – Saturday_  
  
Stiles feels a gentle autumn breeze on his skin. It makes him sigh, his face pressing into his pillow, his hands pulling at the surrounding blanket. He feels Scott next to him and it’s all so wonderful.  
Stiles grins to himself, he can’t hold it in. His eyes are still closed as he takes in the soothing sound of Scott’s gentle breaths.  
He rolls over so their chests are touching, something within him urging him to rest a hand lightly over the jut of Scott’s hips.  
Stiles gives a squeeze, and his wolf’s eyes open slowly, his tongue running over his bottom lip. He goes scarlet when he realizes Stiles is looking back at him.

“Hi,” Scott says with a lazy smile.

“Hi…” Stiles whispers back. The flush on his face expands as Scott runs a finger over his chin, his digit tracing along Stiles’ plump lip.  
  
“It’s a little cold in here,” Stiles shivers.

“It’s ‘cause you left the window open last night. I told you. It’s almost the end of October and you don’t run hot like me.”

“Still not used to having our own apartment, I guess. Too many responsibilities.”

Scott snorts at that. “Closing a window is a responsibility now?”

“To me it is.”

“You’re so silly… _and I love you_.”

Stiles will never tire of hearing that. He still can't believe all this has happened. They're in New York together... living together. Their parents are happily married and Melissa's about to have their brothers!   
Insane all that's happened. That first breakdown in the parking lot and worrying about their future together seems so far away now.   
  
Scott closes the gap between them a second later, his mouth claiming Stiles’. They both sigh in quiet satisfaction, Stiles’ hands landing in Scott’s hair. He gives the dark locks a tug, legs spreading as Scott rolls on top of him.  
His weight only accentuates what is hardening in his groin.  
The kiss that follows is slow. Soft. Sweet.  
Scott’s tongue is like velvet over his, their mouths meshing with exquisite tenderness.  
  
There’s no more need to rush or be silent. He’s loving the feeling of Scott’s hands on him as they glide up and down his ribs and quivering thighs.  
All Stiles has on is his boxers and Scott sleeps naked. This means the evidence of his Alpha’s cock being ramrod straight is abundantly clear, and Stiles hisses low as he feels Scott grinding it into him.  
“Do you want it, baby?”  
Stiles can perceive the moistness of his swollen tip leaving a brand against his stomach and it makes him whine.

“I can feel you,” Stiles whispers. “Shit, how _hard_ are you? You woke up like that?!”

“I can’t help it when I fall asleep next to you,” Scott murmurs, his tongue flicking along Stiles’ artery. He sucks at the skin there for a second, right below his ear, turning Stiles’ soft flesh a pretty shade of red. “Better get used to it. My morning wood is twice as hard now that we’re living together.”

If Stiles is being honest, he can’t think of anything better than waking up to Scott and his hard cock every morning. Stiles licks his lips, watching as Scott crawls down his body and gets in between his splayed legs.  
Scott spreads them further, his dark eyes zeroing in on his objective. A tongue darts out and dips into Stiles’ ass.  
The human whimpers- arching his back into the contact.  
“Shit shit Scott…”  
Scott’s tongue studies, explores… inserts itself slowly, teasing the muscle as it coats the area with saliva.  
He pushes into the pucker and past, and Stiles literally jolts at the feeling. 

“Scott,” he says with a hiccup, his hand lowering until he gets to Scott’s hair. His fingers rake along his scalp, letting his boyfriend eat him out like it’s his job.  
  
Stiles’ toes curl the more Scott laps at him, and his dick is so stiff it’s painful. It's all a chain reaction after that. His balls tighten as Scott runs two fingers alongside his tongue, stretching Stiles open.  
Scott scissors them, hooded gaze observing as Stiles writhes for him.  
  
“Scott, _please_. Need it. Need you inside of me.”

“Want me to take you, Stiles?” Scott asks between each drugging drag.

“ _Please_ ,” Stiles begs with a nod.

There’s a wicked smile on his usually sweet countenance as he moves back up, wet face directly boring into Stiles’. “Roll over and get on all fours. Want to take you from behind.”

“Jesus that is so hot…” he mewls.  
  
Stiles shifts so that his back is pressing into Scott’s chest. They’re close.  
Very close.  
Stiles throws his head back when he feels Scott’s lips tear lightly into his neck, biting gently into the mate mark.

“Oh God…”  
Scott reaches around to fist his cock and pumps it twice.  
“Say you want it, sweetheart.” As he does so he presses the swollen, leaking glans up against Stiles’ opening and waits.  
It's torture.   
  
Stiles can barely reason. He’s blinded with lust. “I want it. I want you. Fuck me, please. Fuck me.”  
  
“That’s my good Stiles…” he pushes into him with a slow thrust. Even though he’s more than prepped, Scott just stays there for a minute, reveling in the sensation of being inside him.

“Fuck, Scott…” Stiles bucks back, making Scott chortle.  
“Eager are we?”  
Stiles gasps, his eyes fluttering shut as he gets used to the lazy lunges. "Scott..." It's like a litany now, his name.   
“That’s it, baby… so good for me…” Scott encourages him.  
  
He lays there whimpering, savoring the stretch as Scott inches in and out. The suction and the slick makes an almost obscene sound as they move as one.  
  
“Faster, Scott, please for the love of God…”  
Not wanting to torture him, and his own body reacting with a sudden tingling, Scott’s pace picks up. He’s working himself into Stiles with soft grunts, an open hand resting on his haunch, keeping him steady as he claims him.

“Scott,” whispers Stiles. He’s so used to having to keep his voice down… and then he remembers there are no parents to burst in through the door. He utters Scott’s name louder, not bothered with who hears it.  
“Scott, oh, yes… like that…”

“So tight, baby,” Scott murmurs into Stiles’ hair, his stabs perfectly angled to hit Stiles’ prostate.  
  
It’s ridiculous how turned on Stiles is. How can he … how can he be… “Fuck, can't be but I’m getting close…”  
  
The sex is becoming a little more savage, almost punishing. Scott wraps a hand around his cock and resumes jerking him. “I want you to come all over the sheets. I want to see it spurt everywhere.”  
  
Stiles groans loudly at the suggestion, and Scott feels him stiffen against him. “Shit Scott, shit… if you keep talking like that…“  
  
“Come for me, baby,” Scott orders, thumbing over his slit before squeezing right below the crown. “Come for me.”   
And that’s all it takes.

Stiles is whining, almost in tears from the rocking pleasure as his cock fountains ALL OVER the sheets in three long, delicious explosions. “Oh God, Scott!”  
  
Scott grits his teeth, focusing on the pressure cinching around his hardness. He slides into him one last time before stopping, his tight balls hitting Stiles’ ass.  
“Fuuuuck!”  
Scott is just whispering out the filthiest of words into Stiles’ ear as he empties himself. It’s so hot inside him, like a drizzle of summer rain.   
"That's it, Stiles. Take it all... "

With his heart beating out his chest, Stiles gasps, his air literally caught in his throat. He cums again when he hears Scott growl that, all over his tummy this time for the way he’s holding his shaft.   
Scott pushes his cum into Stiles’ recesses, his dick twitching and throbbing, drenching his insides with his Alpha seed.   
God Stiles loves to be marked like this and he lets him know in no uncertain terms. 

“Holy shit…,” Scott says with a low laugh as he pulls out, his cock coated in white froth. “I hope every morning is gonna be like this.”

“Well, we’ve kind of been going at it at all hours,” Stiles replies, his eyebrows raised, one hand over his heart and the other on his brow. "I think I almost fainted when I came that second time."   
  
“This time was intense,” the Alpha sibilates. “All we need is to have some pancakes to make this morning even more perfect.”  
  
“Pancakes sound amazing, baby. I’ll go make some as soon as I can stand again.”

They whoop as they’re riding out their bliss, their arms wrapped possessively around each other.  
When they get their breaths back, Scott keeps kissing at Stiles, making the other boy blush and giggle like a kid.

And then suddenly there’s a knock on the door.  
Loud. It’s booming, in fact. Whoever is on the other side is panicked or furious.  
  
“Shit, were we too loud?” Stiles wonders. Before Scott can surmise anything, there’s another sound. Someone’s voice.  
“Hey motherfucker, are you in there?”  
 _Jackson’s voice?!_

The rapping continues. “Stiles, I know you’re fucking in there!” Jackson screams out. “Get out here right now!”  
  
“Oh, God, what the fuck is he doing here?” Stiles mutters, his eyes widening at the sound of Jackson screeching in the hallway. “How does he know where we live?”

“What is he going on about?!” Scott spits, getting off the bed in a huff. He grabs at some shorts, pulling them on before he does his best to pat down his messy hair. It doesn’t really work- his curls are completely untamed now.

“Are you seriously going out there to talk to him?” Stiles asks with a strain of panic to his voice as he scrambles to find his boxers. “He sounds insane right now!”

“He’s gonna wake up the whole damn floor. I don’t want our neighbours to hate us when we just moved in,” sighs Scott. “Then my Dad will get in trouble. Come on, get dressed, let’s go find out what he wants.”

Scott leaves the room in a mad rush and Stiles lets out a dramatic sigh. Never a moment of peace!

“Fuck,” is all Stiles can say. He jumps out of bed, finding Scott’s pants and a tee to throw on before he follows his boyfriend’s lead. When he gets to the living room the door’s already ajar, and he sees Jackson standing there with a look of fury painting his face.  
As soon as Jackson gets sight of Stiles, his light eyes burn and he points a finger at the boy.  
“You already have Scott. Isn’t one boyfriend enough?”  
  
What the hell is he talking about?! Stiles thinks, the pulse pounding between his ears. Scott pulls him inside by his collar, and Jackson doesn’t resist. A cursory glance up and down the hall to make sure none of the neighbors are coming to their doors ends with Scott shutting and turning the lock.  
  
“Would you get in here, Jackson, before you get us kicked out!”

“You,” Jackson ignores him, instead snapping at Stiles as soon as they’re all safely in the living room. “ _You_ fucked my boyfriend.”

Stiles’ eyebrows shoot to his hairline, his hand on his hips. “Come again?”

“You. Fucked. Danny,” Jackson drawls, his nostrils flaring.

Scott’s jaw drops. Okay, he knew about Isaac kissing him, but what the hell is Jackson accusing him of now?! “What the hell are you talking about, asshole?”

“Danny and I have had sex _two_ times,” Jackson states, holding up two fingers for emphasis. “And he’s said _your_ name two times, Stiles. Twice! And he even said it once _after_ we had sex and he fell asleep. He was fucking dreaming about you.”

“Oh, God,” mutters Stiles. He buries his face in his hands. This is the parking lot aftermath.  
“What?” Scott is scratching his head.  
“Wait, you and Danny are together?” Stiles interjects, pawing at his sleeves.

“Uh-huh,” Jackson swivels to face Scott. “Don’t you remember? We’re best friends, we both go to NYU and are roommates. We got together almost two weeks ago. Why? You pissed about that? You want Danny all to yourself, you fucking home wrecker?”  
Jackson is LIVID. His freckle-kissed face is touched with pink and if steam could come out of his ears, he’d be fuming.  
His fists keep clenching and relaxing at his sides.

Stiles is thankful he’s good at masking humor, because he can’t help it when he nearly snorts into his palms. He’s never been called a home wrecker before and he hopes to God he’s never called one again – but Lord Almighty, Jackson just sounds so goddamn dramatic right now.

“Dude, no offence, but you sound a little psychotic,” Scott says with a slight wince. “We didn’t even know you and Danny were together and we’ve been in Ithaca all month so how the hell could Stiles have slept with him?!”

“Whatever, man. If Stiles didn’t fuck him …then I’d just like to know why _my_ boyfriend can’t keep _your_ boyfriend’s name out of his mouth during sex,” Jackson says, his hands thrown up in the air. “An explanation would be nice.”

Stiles finally looks Jackson in the eyes, and scratches at the back of his dark head. “I’m not banging your boyfriend if that’s what your worried about.” 

“Then why-”

“Look,” Stiles looks to Scott for approval and he just nods in return. Telling him what happened is the only way this will end quickly.  
  
“Danny saw me and Scott in my car one day,” Stiles explains. “We were in the middle of something… _intimate_. We both got to school early that day. Thought we had enough privacy to hook up, but we were wrong and he saw us. He saw me, more specifically… “  
Stiles hesitates, but Jackson looks like he’s about to throw a punch, so he just admits it.  
“I was sticking a butt plug in my ass. He mentioned it to me later in the hallway, propositioned me. It’s just a stupid little crush, Jackson. I honestly didn’t think it would last this long. I don’t like Danny like that and I can promise you I’m not trying to get in the middle of you two. I love Scott. Scott only.”  
  
Stiles fixates his Alpha at that with a loving stare, watching as his boyfriend’s expression softens from his words. It makes Stiles smile, and he reaches over, grabbing Scott’s hand tightly.  
“I would never do that to Scott. Ever. He’s the only one I want.”

There’s silence after that. Jackson is quiet, his hands on his hips, his sea eyes darting between Stiles and Scott from under his thick lashes. Then his chest deflates.   
He nods to himself, and Stiles is sure he can feel the embarrassment just pouring out of him.

“All right.” Jackson grunts. “I can tell you didn’t just make that up on the spot so it probably happened. So what the fuck am I supposed to do now? He thinks about you when we’re banging do you know how awful that is?”  
  
“Not as awful as you referring to it as banging. Have you thought about telling him how you feel without being a total dick? Maybe some tenderness would go a long way.” It escapes Scott’s lips before he can stop himself and then he instantly regrets it.

“What did you say, Dr. Phil?” Jackson crosses his enormous arms. The look on his face says he’s counting to ten before he decks someone.   
  
“Look, all he means is I’m kinda sweet. I’ve always been really nice to Danny… when we’ve actually talked. Maybe not being so… “ Stiles waves his finger like he’s holding a magic wand or something… “abrasive will show him you really care. It’ll be a matter of time before the crush passes. Just be sweet to him. And Scott’s right, don’t call it banging. You bang a grindr date, not your boyfriend, dude.”

The tension seems to release suddenly, and Jackson’s shoulders drop. Even his intense look fades into something almost… human, even for Jackson.   
“Maybe you’re right. I’m a little… crude sometimes. Rough around the edges. I’ll try… I’ll try to be nicer.”  
  
Stiles is nearly pinching himself. He can’t believe it! Jackson admitting to being wrong!  
  
Jackson holds out a hand, and Stiles stares at it like it’s an alien appendage before remembering his manners and shaking it.  
“Sorry, man. I just… when I heard your name, I assumed the worst. Then he said it again and I lost it.”  
“And you drove 4 hours and starting banging on our door.”  
  
Flitting between his shoes and the amused ex-classmates standing before him, Jackson smiles. “Not my best moment, I’ll admit. Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in like that. If any neighbors complain I'll be happy to talk to them."   
  
“It’s okay,” Scott replies, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I didn't see anyone. And I get it. You care about Danny a lot and don't want to lose him. It's how I feel about Stiles.”  
“Yeah, I do. A lot. I think I’ve secretly been in love with him since freshman year.”  
  
Stiles tilts his head. “That’s sweet. I think you two would be adorable together.”  
Leaning forward, he nudges Jackson gently on the round part of his bicep. “So don’t fuck it up.”  
  
“I won’t,” he replies. With some hesitation, he twirls his car keys on his index finger, an uncomfortable silence creeping in. “Well, I better head back to New York. I kinda left things weird with him, so…”  
  
They share an unspoken look, and Scott gestures towards the table.  
“Wanna stay for breakfast at least? We were just about to make pancakes. You can fill us in on all the gossip…”  
  
Jackson is taken aback, but pleasantly surprised. They've certainly had their differences but then after all they'd been through...  
He agrees, a crinkle to his eyes that wasn’t there until he allowed himself to relax.  
The grumble to his stomach also reminds him he’d taken off without eating.  
“Yeah, sure. Thanks a lot.”  
  
Sighing, Stiles rests his hands on Scott’s shoulders. There’s a beaming grin on his face as he takes in the moment. Yet another disaster avoided.  
Jackson walks into the kitchen, asking if he can help, and then it’s as if none of the insanity had happened. The men instantly forget about the drama.  
  
“I’m gonna go jump in the shower real quick,” Stiles says, eyeing Scott. He can feel a little of the come leaking out and his lover simpers. “You two can start and then I’ll cook?”  
  
The Alpha does a horrible job of hiding his embarrassment.  
“Oh sure, yeah…” Jackson says. “I didn’t give you time to shower when I stormed in. Sorry about that. Heard the tail end of you fucking as I was waiting by the door. Wanted to let you finish before I interrupted.”  
  
Stiles is beet red and Scott can’t hold in his laughter any longer. He breaks into a stomach-grabbing fit.  
  
“Jackson you’re unbelievable,” Stiles giggles.  
  
“Hey, you’re the ones who are loud,” he quips with a sparkle to his eyes as he opens the top to the pancake mix. "But it was hot. I get why Danny's obsessed with you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter kids and then it's done. I'll miss this fic!  
> You know what to do, drop a comment, kudo, bookmark. Thanks for all the overwhelming support!


	9. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mieczyslaw Stilinski and Scott McCall request the honor of your presence...

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate then when I fall asleep your eyes close.”  
– Pablo Neruda, _100 Love Sonnets_

____  
  
Stiles and Scott had decided long ago that they were going to walk down the aisle together, so it was no surprise when during junior year they announced their engagement.  
Though Scott really wished to be the one to propose, it had proved to be a particularly difficult portion of his program in his pre-vet studies. Labs and exams had piled up and by the time his birthday rolled around in Feb., he’d found himself behind on the planning.  
All Stiles wanted to do was marry Scott. That’s it. He’d been dreaming of wedding the other man since they first declared their love, since Stiles first laid new loving eyes on his best friend.  
That day in the parking lot flashed back to him often, distracting him from his studies. Their first kiss- Stiles’ apprehension at their becoming stepbrothers. Stiles losing his virginity to the one man who had deserved such an important milestone in his life. All their firsts together, really…  
It seemed like something so distant now.  
They’d come so far. They’d made it – and it was time for the next gigantic step.  
  
Scott wasn’t expecting it all when on his birthday he opened a huge box- inside was a white doctor’s jacket and a stethoscope with his future title etched in.  
When Stiles told him there was a surprise in the pocket, reaching in he extracted a gorgeous black band with “eternally yours” engraved on the inside rim.   
“I’m already the luckiest man in the world, but if Dr. McCall would do me the honor of becoming my husband, that would make everything utterly perfect,” Stiles professed as he dropped to one knee, heart thudding in his chest.  
“I love you so much, Stiles. It would be MY honor to call you husband.”  
  
Did it really matter who proposed when they loved each other into eternity?  
_  
  
Stiles stands adjusting his cuffs, tugging on the left one particularly. It looks shorter than the right.  
“What the hell with this jacket?!”  
He’s doing his best not to get flustered. The last thing he wants is to walk down the aisle with ruddy cheeks. His hands haven’t stopped trembling, either, which doesn’t help matters.  
As he’s glancing at himself in the mirror, stifling the urge to criticize every single thing, Stiles’ thoughts wander yet again. They’re projected into the next months.  
  
He and Scott have just finished college and grad school’s coming up, and this time around they’ll be at the same institution.  
Deciding to renew their lease and stay in Ithaca for the foreseeable future was almost a decision made for them, as had Scott refused the offer from the University of California- Davis. Cornell’s prestigious veterinary science program had accepted him almost immediately, and since Stiles had been pressured to remain at his alma mater and complete his Ph.D. track there (a sizeable financial grant a tremendous incentive), it was the logical choice.  
It wouldn’t have made sense for them to uproot and move back to California just so Scott could attend a _slightly_ better school when they’d already made a life for themselves back in New York.  
  
But before all that could happen in the fall, something monumental was about to transpire.  
  
In just a few minutes, Stiles and one Scott McCall would be married. Husband and husband. It seems unreal to Stiles as he tries to quiet his breath. 16 months of tortuous wedding planning has come to this.

It’s when Stiles rounds the corner that leads him to the entrance of the hall that he sees Scott. He’s standing by the doors looking as handsome as ever in his crisp, clean tuxedo. Stiles chokes up a bit at the sight. Advancing with slow steps, he’s suddenly taken aback by the man that will be his for the rest of his life.  
He’s just so fucking in love it borders on something Harmony romance. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Scott says with a gleaming grin as his breath stops short.  
Stiles is stunning. He’s bigger than he was in high school. Doing martial arts to relieve stress, his body has filled out what once was the shell of a skinny teen. He's hot and no one would say otherwise.  
“Hey baby,” Stiles breathes, reaching out to lace their fingers together.

“You look so handsome,” Scott replies with a wink. He does. He really does. “Are you ready to go in? Everyone’s waiting for us.”

“I’m so ready,” Stiles sighs, stars sparkling in his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long. I couldn’t sleep last night. I had so many butterflies in my stomach and I still do. I almost puked just now.”

“Aw, baby...” Scott places his soft hands on Stiles’ warm cheeks, his lips slightly puckered as he leans in. “It’ll be perfect. It’s all done. All we have to do is walk in and say a few words.”

“No kissing before the wedding,” Stiles says, covering Scott’s plump lips with two fingers. “Remember? The curse?”

Scott frowns, chuckling as he does so. “I thought that was just sex?”  
His voice is all muffled as he talks. They haven’t touched each other’s fun bits in a week. After they’d both flown back to Beacon Hills for the wedding each had stayed in separate houses. Scott slept at the Stilinski house, and Stiles at Jordan Parrish’s condo.  
The yearning has accumulated and is so intense Scott thinks he’s going to pounce on Stiles the minute the ceremony is over.

“No, it’s kissing AND sex. We can’t do either of those things.”

“Or what? We’ll hate each other and get a divorce?”

“Something like that. We’ll be able to kiss in a little while. And I can’t wait. I can’t wait to kiss you properly. As husband and husband,” Stiles blushes. “I’m so excited to spend the rest of my life with you, Scott. You have no idea.”

Scott beams, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grabs the digits that had been covering up his lips. He pecks Stiles’ hand with a hum before laying it over his chest.  
“I know, Stiles. I know how you feel about me, and I like to think you know how I feel about you. I love you. Now let’s get in there and make it official.”

There’s electricity pumping through Stiles, and he grabs Scott’s hand, clasping it firmly. He’s ready.  
“Let’s do it. Let’s get married. And then let’s find a coatroom and have frenzied married sex.”

“Are you serious?” Scott gives Stiles a smirk for reading his mind- and that literally makes his heart flutter.  
“Oh, I'm serious. I’m so horny I think I’m already half hard. Now let’s get this thing done,” Stiles quips.  
  
The next thing he knows someone familiar runs up behind them, clapping her hands, eager as ever to get the show on the road.  
“Come on boys, it’s time. I'm so excited!”  
Lydia Martin enters before they do, and from behind the closed doors, Stiles hears music playing.  
It turns his palms balmy, but in the best way possible- excited nerves. The doors swing open, and Scott and Stiles exchange one more glance before letting out chest-deflating exhales.  
  
This is it.  
They had decided on walking down the aisle together to avoid awkward decisions about who would have to stand at the altar waiting and who would accompany whom…  
As they progress, people stand up.  
It’s a sea of familiar faces sending them bright smiles and thumbs ups and yes… there’s Coach Finstock waving at them with tears in his watery ocean eyes. "Atta boy Stilinski!" he cries.  
Stiles gives the man a friendly nod. Coach will always be Coach. 

Stiles himself chokes up when he sees the look on his dad’s face. His expression is bright, he’s so proud, sending his boy a wink and a tight-lipped smile. If he doesn’t break into a fit of tears, it’ll be a miracle.  
Jordan is next, looking immensely happy for these crazy kids. To think they almost risked not making it because Stiles had had some silly qualms about labels.  
Scott waves to Danny and Jackson on his side, and Dr. Deaton warms his heart with a huge mouthed "congrats."  
Even Isaac is there, looking even more handsome than usual. Damn him, Stiles thinks.   
  
Two of their dearest friends from Ithaca stand at the altar as best men and witnesses. Sitting on three chairs further down are Melissa, 5 months pregnant with a third child (a girl this time), and their two twin brothers. Their tiny legs swing as they hold the ring pillows tightly. Such handsome boys... the children really got the best of both parents – Melissa’s inky hair and Mediterranean complexion and Noah’s piercing green eyes.  
Their brothers wave excitedly at them when the men reach the front and Scott and Stiles blow them kisses.   
  
Scott sighs, rubs gently at Stiles’ skin with his thumb, and the comforting feeling soothes him. A warm breath leaves his lips. “This is it, baby.”  
  
The rest is kind of a blur. All Stiles really does is stare at Scott as Lydia talks. She’s dressed in a stunning blue dress and her long auburn hair cascades past her shoulders. She looks bright and bubbly, so like her usual self, but all he can focus on is Scott.  
Scott Scott Scott. It’ll be like that for the rest of his life, he wagers. Goose bumps cover his skin when they exchange rings, and Stiles can’t help himself when he looks down at the black gold band around his finger. He lets a teardrop fall. 

What Stiles _does_ hear very clearly is Lydia proudly announcing “By the power vested in me by the state of California and an online ordination I completed last night,” the crowd chuckles, “I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss!”  
  
Scott lets out the most beautiful sounding laugh before his ears fill with cheers and claps and hollers. Warm palms land on his hips, with Scott holding him tight as they share a sweet kiss. Scott’s tongue teases into his mouth for a second, but they tone it down for the parents and press their lips together, ending in a chaste kiss.  
It’s so heavenly, and Stiles shudders knowing that the man that’s embracing him is his _husband_.

“I love you,” Scott says when he pulls away, his forehead resting against Stiles’. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Stiles replies, his chest a little heavy.

While Stiles is thankful for the surrounding crowd, he knows he doesn’t really need them.  
All he needs is the man standing right before him.

***

“Are you sure no one saw us sneak away?” Scott asks, letting Stiles pull him down the hall. They’re on the hunt for a closet. And some privacy.

“Everyone is busy dancing,” Stiles whispers, his pulse racing in anticipation. “And most of them are three drinks in. Don’t worry, no one saw us leave. And even if they did- this shit happens all the time at weddings.”

Scott lets out an “aha!” when they see a door with no one standing around it. CLEANING CLOSET. Perfect.  
Sharing a knowing grin, the men are about to run towards it, both of them eager for some intimacy. And then they spot him.  
  
 _Isaac_. He must have gone to the nearby bathroom. Stiles resists the urge to roll his eyes and he hopes that he just returns to the hall to dance with his date.  
While Danny and Jackson were still very much together (and Jackson was still very much annoying), it seemed that Isaac had kept his reputation for being “a free spirit.”

“Hey boys,” Isaac says, clapping his hands together. “I haven’t had the chance to say congratulations yet. So, congrats! And thanks for the invite. I appreciated it.”

“Thanks, Isaac,” Scott says with a slight smile. “And you know… we wanted everyone to be here, so no problem.”

“Yeah, thanks,” mimics Stiles. He rubs at the back of his head as he talks. It’s been nearly 5 years and he still can’t stand the guy.

“I’m so happy you two made it. Who’s your date again?”  
  
Isaac turns on his heel, as if his current boyfriend were somewhere near. The hallway is empty. “Nigel. He’s from Manchester. Works with me in London. We’ve been dating for a few weeks now.”  
  
Scott is being very polite, but Stiles is only thinking about the erection raging in his pants.  
“That’s nice, Isaac. Good for you. Hope you have a nice evening then. We kind of have to-“  
  
“You know, many people who get together in high school don’t do what you guys did,” Isaac interrupts, pushing his hands into his pockets. It’s like they poured him into the suit. God, Stiles hates that he looks this good. Perfect as usual.  
“They break up, like, a week after they finish high school, I mean. But you two… I guess you two were meant to be. It would have been nice to get more than a kiss and a grope from you, Stiles… I still remember that time back in my room. But I guess I’m glad that you both are here and married and happy.”

“Dude, seriously?” Stiles deadpans. “On our _wedding_ day?”

“Tacky, dude,” Scott clicks his tongue.

Isaac laughs and shrugs. “What? It’s the truth. All I’m saying is that it would have been nice to, you know, get my hands on you for a night or two, Stiles. And especially you, Scott… That would have been fun. But, alas, you two are in love, and I can respect that. I’m happy for you both.”  
Isaac then walks in between the newly married couple, slapping them both HARD on the ass before he makes his way down the hall.   
"Still hot, the two of you..." he remarks before disappearing behind a corner.

“Did he just spank us?” Scott’s jaw drops.  
“That is the weirdest congratulations we have gotten all night. Including the one from Coach,” Stiles says.

Scott shakes it off, bending his head towards Stiles. More pressing matters are at hand.   
“Yeah, I guess having an open bar wasn’t the best choice… But, let’s not worry about that. They’ll wanna cut the cake soon. Come on, baby. I can’t keep my hands off my husband for much longer."

“How many times are you gonna keep saying husband?” Stiles wonders as Scott pulls him over to the closet. He’s sure Scott has said it a million times time already. He not-so-secretly loves it, though.

When they get inside and lock the door behind them, Stiles lets out a sigh of relief at the size of it – it’s big, with just an empty bucket and some cleaning supplies.  
Stiles giggles when he feels Scott cup his ass.  
"He's right, you are hot..." the Alpha growls.   
Scott squeezes it, his fingers digging into Stiles' cheeks, pressing into them through the material of his expensive pants. They kiss, their tongues twisting together wild and fast.  
There’s no time. They know that. This has to be a quickie.

Stiles moans into the kiss before he sinks to his knees with a smirk creasing his face. He’s eager and isn’t ashamed to show it- licking his plump lips.  
  
It’s been so long since he and Scott did anything. (Well, for them a week is an eternity). Stiles literally mewls when he feels Scott’s fingers running through his hair, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of rushing fingers pulling down Scott’s zipper hastily.

Moistening his lips with kitten licks, the combination of heat and the AC blowing makes Scott hiss.  
Stiles grabs Scott’s cock, holding it at the base as he gives it a nice, long sweep that starts from his heavy balls and travels to the leaky tip.  
  
“Oh fuck,” a low moan escapes him. Stiles smiles around the shaft, swirls his tongue round and round. The taste of Scott’s salty secretion makes his own cock harden further, and that just urges him to suck with more force. He doesn’t stop until his nose is pressing into the hem of Scott’s white shirt.

“Oh, fuck, baby. That feels so good,” Scott grunts, his head thrown back as he tugs at tufts of Stiles’ hair. “So so good.”

Spit is falling from his lips and it’s getting sloppy, but Stiles loves it. It’s all so filthy and naughty. Stiles runs his muscle along the underside of Scott’s cock, loving the feeling of that thick vein pulsating against it.  
He suckles on Scott’s glans as he uses both hands to work the rest.

“Oh, fuck, Stiles. Christ,” Scott says with a loud groan. “Baby, get up here. Need to fuck you already. Can’t fucking wait anymore. I’m too close.”

Scott’s voice is dragged in gravel. Stiles literally whimpers when Scott pulls him up by his hair and then he’s suddenly being spun around and pressed into the wall. Scott reaches, tugging at Stiles’ belt until it’s undone, shoving Stiles’ pants and his boxers down in one tug.

Stiles whines as Scott smacks his ass, turning his creamy skin a pretty shade of pink. “Don’t come until I tell you to, Stiles.”

“Scott, fuck, please,” Stiles begs, his hands pressing into the wall, fingers grasping at nothing. “Please, please, please.” His cock is pressed into the concrete wall, hot against the cool surface.   
Pre-come stains a small spot of paint. 

“I’m right here, baby, I’m right here,” Scott says a second later. “I’ll take care of you.”  
  
His tip circles Stiles’ opening, and Stiles is clawing at the wall, his eyes shut tight as he feels Scott slide into him. Arching back for a better angle, the Alpha moves slowly. It is nice and deep, though, and Scott’s cock hits that sweet spot that makes Stiles moan so loudly he worries the guests will hear him.

“Scott, fuck,” Stiles whimpers. “Fuck, you feel so good. So good.”

“Shit, baby,” Scott bites at Stiles’ neck, a bit of his skin caught between his fangs. He lunges into him harder, faster, until the only sound in the room is slapping skin.

“I wanna feel your come inside me.” The beseech makes Scott just plough into Stiles harder. His eyes darken, grip tightening.

"Touch yourself, Stiles."  
Everything is a blur, a show of stars and fireworks behind his lids. His eyes are rolling into the back of his head as Scott slams into him, his nails scratching at the walls, his cheeks flushed red. A hand is jerking his cock so fast… the burning in his belly overwhelming.

“Oh, Scott, yes!” Stiles whines. “Please, God, yes! So close.”

“Don’t come yet!”  
  
Spikes of heat tighten Scott’s groin. Just a couple more....  
“Shit shit… now Stiles! Come now!”  
  
“Oh holy hell…” Stiles disintegrates.  
  
Scott comes a second later, deep grunts leaving his mouth as he pumps into Stiles one last time, filling him up with copious, heavy loads. Stiles feels Scott’s cock twitching, and it's all heat.  
His own spend drips in a creamy puddle on the floor below, some having sprayed on the wall in front of him. 

“Oh shit, Stiles,” Scott pants, a shocked laugh leaving his lips. “That was a week’s worth of come.”

Stiles giggles hysterically, leaning up against the wall with a lazy but bright smile on his satisfied face. “Me too. I waited. I swear to God I think I almost passed out. It’s a good thing this is a cleaning closet.”  
  
The men laugh, bodies shaking. Scott pulls him in for a kiss, prickles still running across his skin. “We better get back inside. People will notice us missing.” Scott chuckles, his lips ghosting over Stiles’ warm neck.

“Yeah, I’m sure everyone knows we snuck away to have sex. But I don’t care. It’s my party and I’ll fuck if I want to.” Umber eyes speak a thousand words, as does his wicked smile. The biggest message of all is _I love you._  
  
“If you’re still horny, I can call Isaac in here on my way out…” Scott suggests. 

Swaying in his arms, a scorching gaze passing between them, Stiles wags his tousled head. Scott feels like the luckiest man in the world.  
  
“Funny, baby. Don't forget you're mine now," a finger traces along Scott's juicy lower lip. "You’re all I need, Scott McCall. You’re all I want. _Till death do us part._ ”  
  
  
\- Fin –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a great run. I'm going to miss these boys in this fic. But it's time for new adventures!  
> I want to thank all of you for the overwhelming support! I did not expect at all for this little series to have become so followed. Y'all have been amazing!


	10. Beacon Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11 years after getting married, Scott and Stiles move back to Beacon Hills to start a new chapter in their lives. Each have new and interesting coworkers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist writing a few more chapters for this story, I hope you don't mind. :=) I dedicate them to Drew who is not only a wonderful and cherished friend but also one of my most loyal supporters. You mean the world to me.

The new place is only a block from their parents’, and it was a stroke of luck to find something that close which both he and Scott could agree upon. (Most of the houses they’d seen in Beacon either went over their budget or needed so much refurbishment it would have made sense to spend double and just buy something move-ready).  
Purchasing the two-story French Provincial was the best thing they could have done. It was spacious and the exterior was not only gorgeous (white-stone and huge bay windows), the front and back yards left plenty of room for a vegetable and flower garden as well as a swing set.  
  
It’s good to be back in California, Stiles thinks. Back in Beacon Hills. It’s home to him and Scott and the proximity also means frequent visits from Claudio and Cailen, who are now freshmen at Beacon High, and Alessia, their little sister, who always boasts about being ten and how she’s a “big girl.”  
Jesus I’m old, Stiles muses as he unpacks a box of books. Someone knocks on the door a second later and it’s Stiles’ tummy to grumble in response at the sound.  
  
It must be the Uber Eats guy, he thinks. The entire family is aching to bite into the burgers he ordered a half hour ago, so he drops the Criminal Psychology textbook back into the half empty cardboard box and bolts over to the door.  
“Who’s hungry?” Stiles calls over his shoulder.

“Me!” “Me!”

Two sweet voices carry from the living room. Matilda and Matthew, his little babies. Well, they’re old enough to be in the second grade, but they will always be babies to him. Now that he’s a father, he knows exactly what Noah meant by that when he said it to him.  
Stiles pulls the door ajar with a smile, happy to get something in his stomach after a long day of unpacking. When the porch light reveals someone obviously NOT holding food, Stiles deflates. Instead, he studies a man with neatly styled hair, his ripped body hugging a tight v- neck sweater and skinny jeans.  
 _What?!_   
Definitely no bag in his hand. Nope. Just a lot of hotness in that crooked smile and a sultry “come hither” glance dancing behind his espresso eyes.  
Oh… yeah. He’s holding a baked good, too. A pie. Something in his amazing investigative skills tells Stiles this might be a neighbor?   
A pie is something, Stiles guesses. If the burgers never come, they can eat some with ice cream and talk about how hot this mysterious pastry chef neighbor is.  
Speaking of... ?!

“Uh, hello,” greets Stiles.

“Hi,” the man beams. “Sorry to bother you. I saw your moving trucks here in the morning. I’m guessing you’re my new neighbours. I live directly across the road.”  
A head toss indicates the brown brick Georgian with English windows that faces their property. Stiles is disappointed in himself that he knows all these details. _Jesus, I have been looking at houses too long!_

“Oh, hi, nice to meet you,” Stiles sticks his hand out. “I’m Stiles Stilinski. And before you ask, I am related to Sheriff Stilinski, in case you know him. He’s my dad. My kids over there are Matilda and Matthew, our twins, 8 years old. They’re glued to my phone right now, watching cartoons until we set the TV up. And my husband…”  
Stiles turns on his heel, wondering where Scott has run off too. He doesn’t want to be rude. If they’re going to be living here, he wants to make a “somewhat” good impression. “Where _is_ my husband?” Stiles screams, “Scott! Come meet our new neighbour. His name…”  
  
Stiles realises then that he doesn’t know the guy’s name. “Sorry, and you are?”  
“My bad. It’s Alex,” the dark-haired man chuckles. “Alex Karev. And this is an apple pie I made for you.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex. If my husband ever-” Stiles clasps his hands around the pie tin and rests it on the table near the foyer. "And thank you for the pie. The kids will love getting some unexpected dessert."

“Scott,” Scott appears beside Stiles like he's materialized from thin air, another hand reaching out and a bright smile painted on his face. “Babe, the kids got tired of waiting for the Uber guy. They’re eating ham and cheese sandwiches to tide them over. Nice to meet you,” Scott says to the man before them, suddenly perking up.

There’s silence. Alex isn’t speaking, but he is checking out Scott's body and not being subtle about how engrossed he is in the slightest. He even licks at his lips, head tilting just slightly.

Stiles clears his throat, his fingers itching to clamp up and slug the neighbor. “I work for the FBI,” he deadpans. “Behavioral Analysis.”  
Alex didn’t ask and couldn’t seem less interested. Stiles feels vulnerable and wants to show off, (and if he’s being honest, he wouldn’t mind taking that swing at him).

“Oh, nice,” Alex comments absent-mindedly, not once tearing his focus from Scott. “I’m a vet at a new clinic opening not too far from here. I used to be a plastic surgeon, but then I decided I wanted to work with animals and went back for my veterinary science degree. I went to U of C - Davis and moved here a month ago, after a year of working in San Francisco. So yeah, there’s a new place opening up on State Road 12 outside of Beacon for horses and cattle. After working in a busy Seattle hospital and a fairly trafficked clinic in Cisco I’m down to just chill here. Beacon, it’s a lovely area. Peaceful. _Romantic_ …”

Oh.Sweet.God. Stiles wants to slam the door in Alex’s gorgeous face. _That’s Scott’s new clinic_. _That’s Scott’s new job. This is Scott’s new employee._

“Wait on State Road 12, you say?” Scott throws his hands in the air. “That’s MY clinic! I’m opening it next week. So you’re THE Alex?”

“You are? No way! You’re Scott McCall!” Alex can barely contain his enthusiasm and Stiles can barely contain his vomit, he thinks he just might puke all over this guy’s shoes.  
Could he be any more flirty?! 

“That’s me. I’m that Alex!”

“Isn’t this just a lovely, great, super amazing turn of events?” Stiles says with the fakest smile he’s ever put on in his life. _I will end you,_ his piercing eyes say to Alex.

“Looks like I’m your new boss,” Scott chuckles lowly, not unaffected by the man’s charms if the slight blush to his cheeks is any giveaway. It’s been a while since he felt such a childish exhilaration.

“I hope you’re ready to work hard. We have a lot of farms and ranches in this county, we’re going to be busy.”

“If you’re my boss,” Alex winks, “then I’ll be more than happy to work hard.”

The blatant flirting makes Stiles’ eye twitch. He sucks in a sharp breath, giving Scott a subtle nudge, hoping his husband will get the hint and just shut the door, but Scott stays put and continues the banter. _For the love of all that’s holy!_

“Well, I’m happy to hear that,” Scott leans in, perching himself against the banister. “It’s good to be back home and doing what I love. We just moved here from New York state, but we’re both Beacon Hills born and bred. We missed being here. You know, I turned down UC-Davis to go to Cornell. Stiles was already doing his Ph.d there and it just seemed-”  
  
“Yeah, like I said," Stiles cuts in. "I’m Special Agent Stiles Stilinski with Behavioral Analysis. I carry a gun. I’m working a high profile case here in California, so…”  
  
Alex completely ignores him and Stiles withers as he mumbles something under his breath.

“Well, hopefully you don’t run back to Ithaca any time soon,” Alex breathes, fixing his hair with his right hand. “If you ever need someone to show you around town, catch you up on how much Beacon Hills has changed, you know where to find me. I’d be happy to take you to some new local haunts that you haven’t seen, Scott.”

“We’ve seen everything already,” Stiles lies, about to slam the fucking door on this asswipe. Him and his perfect body and his two medical degrees and…  
  
Alex still doesn’t look at Stiles. Those murky orbs of his are only for Scott. “I guess I’ll see you next Monday then, _boss_?”  
“Yeah, yeah,” nods Scott, flushing scarlet. “Eight in the morning sharp.”

“I’m looking forward to it. We’re gonna have a lot of fun working together. I can just tell.”  
  
Jesus Christ, Stiles thinks, does this man know no shame?! And what is Scott doing exactly?

“I’m sure. I’ll see you then. Goodnight, Alex.”  
Stiles can see the arousal blossoming on Alex’s cheeks, his teeth biting into his plump bottom lip as he adjusts a strand of hair along his brow. He’s looking all bashful all of a sudden and Stiles doesn't buy it for a second.

“Goodnight guys,” Alex whispers. “It was lovely meeting you. You have a grand night.”

“Goodnight, Alex!” Stiles yells out, his voice a little shrill as he grips the door and shuts it with a loud clang a second later. He doesn’t want to look at Alex’s stupid little face anymore. “God, what a douche. Am I right or am I right?”

Scott snorts. “What are you talking about?”

“He was clearly flirting with you,” Stiles retorts harshly, his expression one of annoyance. “Right in front of me, too. I told him we were married with kids. Who does he think he is? What’s his deal?”

“Oh, come on,” Scott waves it away. “He wasn’t flirting. I think he’s just excited about the job.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” Stiles rubs his elbow. “Not only does this dude live across the street from us, but he also works with you. You’re his _boss_. God. You two are gonna have so much fun in the countryside while you look after animals and sing to each other. Then you‘ll watch the sun set, sipping after-shift cocktails and eating his homemade baked goods- sharing kisses in the dark.”

Scott can’t help but laugh out loud. “Honey, that sounds like something out of the worst Lifetime movie ever. Are you jealous?”

Stiles snaps at the accusation, offended Scott would even entertain such a thought. “No. I’ve never been jealous in my life. Stop it.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Whatever. I don’t like that guy. I don’t trust a man who checks out my husband right in front of me. He was acting like I wasn’t even there. And you didn’t even stop him, Scott, _by the way_. Eating up his attentions because he’s hot and brown-eyed and has a huge dick.”

“Baby,” Scott pouts, his arms circling around Stiles’ waist. He pulls him into his space, his nose nuzzling into Stiles’ neck as he croons. “Don’t be like that. Come on. I didn’t think he was flirting with me, I thought he was just trying to be nice. And if he was, isn’t it better he do it in front of you? It means it’s harmless. And who said he’s got a big dick?!”

“No, he was flirting,” Stiles insists. “And I didn’t like it. And didn’t you see that bulge? That guy’s packing an eight-incher, at least. I have a big-dick-dar.”

Scott shakes from giggles, rubbing his hands along Stiles’ back. “I’m sorry. I honestly wasn’t trying to encourage him. I don’t feel anything for him. I love you. You’re the only one I want. A million different guys could flirt with me, but none of them will ever make me feel how I feel about you. You’re the only one that has my heart, sweety,” Scott whispers. His voice is grit, laced with a wonderful tone of sweetness, though. “ _And you’ve got the only big dick I want_.”

It makes Stile blush a little, a small smile curling on his face as he looks up at Scott. “You mean that?”

“Always, baby,” Scott winks. “How could I ever want anyone else but you? How could I ever want anyone but the man I’ve loved since high school?”

Stiles pecks Scott on the lips since their children are watching, although he'd love to do way more. He runs his thumb across Scott’s chin, leaning forward so only he can hear. “I love you. But I expect you to make it up to me properly when the kids go to sleep, McCall. I mean it.”

“Oh, I can assure you I’ll more than make it up to you, sweetheart,” Scott promises.

***

The Uber guy never showed and Stiles and Scott ended up making the whole family some simple tomato spaghetti an hour later. (Melissa’s recipe).  
When the kids’ tummies were full and they were done arguing about who was the better painter, Scott and Stiles put the twins to bed in their new rooms – the both of them excited to start decorating the spaces over the following weeks.  
“I want dinosaurs in my room!” Matthew had exclaimed, bouncing on his mattress. His ebony eyes were so wide in excitement you could see the whites. His passion for paleontology had grown over the past year since they’d introduced him to Jurassic Park.  
“I want stars and planets,” Matilda said, instead, from her perch on the edge of the bed. “Can you get me one of those projectors, Daddy? The kind that puts the stars on the ceiling?”  
  
A far cry from the days when people had to stick glow-in-the-dark star stickers on their ceilings, these types of things abounded now.   
“Sure thing, sweety,” Stiles said before tucking her in. “We’ll look into it. Now get to sleep.”  
  
After reading them a story and giving them kisses on the cheeks, they finally closed the door on their own bedroom. Boxes still scattered the floor and the wardrobe needed to be filled, but it had an enormous bed and the guys were definitely horny enough to try it out.   
The ensuite had yet to be set up with the new towels and toiletries – but Stiles was focusing his energies on something much more important once he'd showered.  
Something decidedly more entertaining than unpacking. 

***

Stiles officially starts his new job in a few days – the same day as Scott – but he has to head in a little earlier just to grab some documents so he can catch himself up on the case. Scott accompanies him and so they drive down after dropping the kids off at the Stilinski’s. Playing with their aunt and uncles is a good chance to spend time with family and their siblings adore Mati and Matt, so it's a win-win.

Stiles doesn’t spend too long in the office. He thanks his boss for the new assignment and he and Scott make their way back to the car, the two of them wondering what food they should pick up along the way for lunch- it’s going to have to feed 9, so…  
Just as Stiles puts the box in the car's trunk, he feels a faint tap on his shoulder. Turning to see who it is, he finds himself eyeing the light eyes of a stranger, not quite sure who he’s looking at. Whoever he is, though, he’s hot as fuck, Stiles thinks. _Hey, I'm married, not dead._

“Can I help you?” Stiles asks a little breathlessly as Scott shuts the trunk next to him and sidles up.

“I’m guessing you don’t remember me,” the guy chuckles before he pulls out his ID. He shows his FBI badge before he points at his name on his card.  
 _Special Agent Theo Raeken._

Stiles and Scott both give each other a look. Stiles furrows his brows, thinking for a second before he realises who’s standing before him and clarity widens his gaze.  
He and Scott were classmates with Theo back in elementary school! It’s been decades since they’ve seen each other.

“Theo,” Stiles says with an elevator look, appreciating the view. “Hey. It’s good to see you. Wait, you’re working here out of the Oakland office as well?”

“Yeah. I’ve moved back here for the Wilson case. I just got told we’re gonna be working on it together. You’re BAU and I was in special investigations… given the” he looks at Scott like he would any other civilian- unworthy of knowing anything confidential.  
Scott frowns.  
“Given the nature of the crimes we're doing a collab. How ‘bout that?” Theo’s vale eyes sparkle and his grin can’t be contained. Was that a quick glance he let drop at Stiles' crotch?

“What an amazing coincidence,” Scott mutters, inching closer to him, almost baring his fangs. “You know you really haven’t changed at all, I’d know those eyes anywhere.” He wants to say sneaky eyes. Very sneaky. 

Theo flits his attention between Scott and Stiles. “Hey, Scott. Nice to see you again. You and Stiles are still friends then? That’s cool.”

Every muscle in Scott’s body tenses, including his jaw, which he juts out. “We’re married, actually,” Scott says before Stiles can get a single word in. He reaches over and grabs Stiles’ left hand, showing off the shiny ring on his long finger. “Been married for eleven years. We've got twins.”

It doesn’t phase Theo at all. His dark eyebrow shoots up and the muscles filling out his blue suit perfectly strain under the fabric as he straightens in place. “Well, congrats,” nods Theo. “You’re a lucky man, Scott.”

“Very lucky,” Scott spits, about this close to clocking him.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, Stiles,” he returns his attentions to his intended audience. “I thought I’d come over and say hello,” Theo announces. There is nothing innocent about how he's looking at him.   
Stiles shifts from left foot to right and grins. "I'm happy to work with someone I knew as a kid. It's cool you joined the bureau, too."  
God, Scott wants to knock both their heads together!  
“We’re gonna be working on this case pretty intensely, Stiles. A lot of late nights on stake outs. Just you and me, one on one, stuck together in a vehicle… "  
There's a moment of silence and it's filled with Scott's rage, Stiles' mind reel, and Theo's sudden thrumming heart.  
Stiles is very attractive- he could have fared worse for a partner.   
  
"And you’re looking amazing, Stiles," Theo adds, basically digging his own grave. " _Really_ good, actually. It will be fun to stay up until the wee hours catching up with you. Guess I’ll see you on Monday, huh? Can’t wait.”

“Uh…” is all Stiles is able to let out, aware of Scott's glaring stare boring into him from behind. He can practically hear Scott brewing in his skin, breathing out deep exhales of hot air.

Theo winks at Stiles, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark blue slacks, almond eyes raking up and down Stiles’ form one last time before he spins on his heels and walks away, disappearing back into the building.

Scratching at his neck, Stiles turns to Scott. “That was… interesting. Should be fun, huh?”

“I hate that asshole,” Scott utters, shaking his head. “I hated him back then and I hate him even more now. What a prick. He’s so lucky I didn’t rip his throat out right here in the parking lot. Did you see how he was flirting with you? You’re gonna be working with _that_ guy? _That_ guy? You’ve got a sex appeal, Stiles, I swear. I’m lucky no one’s stolen you away from me yet.”

“ _Now_ you know how I feel…” Stiles isn’t able to resist it as he says it. “Like you’re not hot or something? Remember Dr. Alex Karev? Dr Drooling Doolittle Hottie Mchot Hot?”

Scott mumbles “shit” and half laughs, shutting his eyes to the light of truth. “Goddammit. Beacon is cursed. We should have stayed in New York state.”

Leaning over, Stiles huffs as he gives Scott a sweet kiss to the cheek. “Come on. Let’s go. I miss the kids. We’ll grab something to eat for everyone so we can relax at our parents’ place for a bit and forget about this mess.”

“Can’t I go over there and beat him up?” Scott asks, glaring at the building as he’s walked to the car door. “Just a little. I just want to punch him once. Just once. Make him less pretty.”

With a guttural laugh, Stiles pulls Scott to his face and this time covers his mouth with his. The kiss is long, deep. Stiles feels a little spark as Scott’s hands land on his hips, the two of them flushed pink and their cocks semi-hard as they press into one another.

“Save that anger. Save it for something else,” Stiles whispers. “Theo won’t be a problem, don’t worry.”

“Good plan,” smirks Scott against his lips. He bucks slightly into him. “Maybe we should make a brief pit stop before we get lunch?”

“Reminds me of high school. What a wonderful idea. I know a couple spots.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to let me know what you think, what's new, how you are! take care and be kind, these are tough times!  
> Sending you all hugs.


	11. The First Day of Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Theo are on a stakeout. Alex helps Scott at the clinic after hours.

“Well, this is a pretty shitty part of Oakland,” Stiles utters, thumb pressing into the plump of his lower lip. The urban blight right before their eyes has spared none of the surrounding blocks from decline.  
It’s only been three hours since they parked the pigeon gray Chevy Caprice Classic in the flatlands of East Oakland, but to Stiles it feels like three years.  
  
“Any movement?”  
Theo is training his eyes through the night vision goggles, but the filthy curtain hanging in the window hasn’t moved since last night. “Nothing, except for the rats fighting over a half-eaten sub if that counts.”  
“Jesus Christ.” Stiles lets out a huff that rumbles in his chest and it makes Theo smirk.  
“Something wrong?” he asks. Theo isn’t bothered at all at having to hang out with Stiles. Quite the contrary. But his partner has been a bit irate since they got here.  
  
“We’re not some wet-nosed agents,” Stiles’ expression strains to his annoyance. “We should be in the tactical van doing more important things. _Like looking for the actual serial killer._ "  
  
Instead, what's making Stiles so angry is they’ve been tasked with watching the brother of the man that’s eluded them for the better part of a year. Jason Silver may or may not be harboring his murdering twin… only time will tell.  
Time, however, is something Stiles is counting down by the second. Each passes like medieval torture to his testicles. “I’m going to kill myself, oh my God!” he slams his hand against the glass, sending a thud through the dusty air.  
“Stop acting out,” Theo spits, throwing him an eye dart. “You’ll blow our cover.”  
“Trust me, acting crazy in this part of town is nothing anyone would even turn for.”  
  
Theo’s demeanor is carefully neutral, but inside he’s honestly having the time of his life. Ever since his divorce, he hasn’t exactly found it easy to be around others without wearing a scowl. Stiles is someone he used to know from school, which makes the social awkwardness less heavy. To boot, he’s naturally funny, even if he’s playing at being upset.  
“Hey hey!” Stiles breaks his reverie, lunging forward to get a better view at a shadow moving in the pane. Almost immediately he deflates when Theo shakes his head.  
“Nope bro. That’s the floor below.”  
Was he seriously just studying the wrong window?! Theo’s making him so crazy he’s screwing up!  
  
“How could anyone live here?” Stiles thinks aloud.  
The building looks condemned, even though it’s not. Stiles thinks it should be, though. It’s falling to pieces, covered in graffiti, and half the windows are smashed.  
The lot next to it fares no better. It’s strewn with waste (glass, empty beer cans, cigarette butts, dirty syringes), and the forlorn faces of passersby don’t exactly scream wellbeing.  
“Classy,” Stiles comments with a lift of his chin. The sidewalk near their sedan is covered in used condoms, which just gives him a case of the gags.  
“We should be glad they’re having protected sex,” Theo remarks, taking a sip from his Jamba Juice. _At least someone’s getting some._

“Did you bathe in your cologne this morning, Raeken?” Stiles isn’t paying attention to his ramblings. Every twitch on his partner’s face is getting on his last nerve.  
_

Theo. Of all the people in the world, why did he have to work with _Theo_? He’s still feeling annoyed about the little incident in the parking lot. Theo had been blatantly flirting with him. He hadn’t tried to hide it, and even though Stiles will admit to finding him attractive _for a split second,_ there was never a chance of him making any kind of move.  
Stiles would never cheat on Scott. Ever. Even if Theo looks like a snack in his casual clothes and is smelling up the car like he just stepped out of an English garden.

“How long do you think we’re gonna be stuck out here for?” Stiles yawns into his Dunkin Donuts coffee. He saves himself from almost spilling it, scalding his thumb instead.  
“Shit!” he licks it before shaking it out.  
The red hoodie he’s wearing complements his coloring and Theo noticed as soon as they’d entered the vehicle, even commenting on it. “It brings out the little hint of auburn in your hair.”  
Stiles, impatient to finish the shift before it had even begun, chided him. “You can’t see shit in this dark, stop trying to get on my good side.”  
_

“It could be days, Stiles. They don’t have a lead on Silver yet so his brother is our best option.”  
“Outstanding.”

A vagrant wanders past and it catches Stiles’ attention. He glances into the side mirror and watches until the man is out of sight.  
  
“I dunno. I don’t mind being stuck out here with you,” Theo says with a murmur and a lift to the corner of his mouth. “Kinda like having someone to talk to. I’ve been lonely since my divorce and-”

“You were married?” Stiles interjects.  
That got his attention. Theo hides the flit of sadness crossing his features and peers out from behind the goggles. He pretends to do another sweep. “Yeah. Three years. It ended 5 months ago, part of the reason I took this case. Just wanted to get away. Change of scenery.”  
“Oh, I see,” it doesn’t excuse his behaviour, Stiles muses, but he feels for the guy. Everything about how he’s slouching makes him think Theo is even lonelier than he’s really letting on. “Sorry man, that’s rough. Can I ask what happened?”  
  
Theo drops his hands into his lap and fingers the edge of the strap. “She cheated. I wasn’t home much, I’ll admit. The job and everything. Then I cheated. It became more about who could spite whom best. Luckily we never had kids, so it was an easy divorce.”  
“If you got cheated on, you should know how shitty it is to do that to someone. Why would you hit on me?” It's an honest question.  
  
Wagging his dark head, Theo bites into his lip and bends to see Stiles better. “When it happens, you’re feeling weak and petty, all you want to do is make the person feel the same pain. I’m not proud of it, but I think the whole thing at the end just jaded me to love and monogamy. It’s stupid. I’d never get married again.”  
“Dude. _I’m_ married.” Stiles doesn’t look at Theo, he just holds up his left hand, showing off the band wrapped around his ring finger.

“If you guys have lasted as long as I think, there must be some magic formula. So congrats. You never thought of having an affair?”

“I have a gun, man,” Stiles snaps, his hands gripping the coffee cup tighter. “I have a _gun_.”

Theo chuckles at that. “What? You’re gonna shoot me for asking you a real question?”  
“I’m very, very tempted, yes,” Stiles’ voice stalls a bit.

“I’m tempted as well,” Theo quips. “Not to _hurt_ you, though. I wanna do something else.”

“Jesus Christ, Theo!" A violent sense of shock takes over Stiles. "I’m happy you find me attractive and all, but I’d like it very much if you could just keep stuff like that to yourself.”  
“So never?" he ignores his remark. "You’ve been loyal to McCall since you were 17 years old?! You can’t like someone that much. Come on.”

“Do you, like, hear yourself when you speak?” Stiles wonders with a sarcastic laugh, though a vision of Isaac invades his conscience. A certain tussle on a bed a long, long time ago. He’d never ever admit it to Theo, though.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Raeken throws up his hands. “I’m just fucking around. Kind of. But for real, though…”  
Now he just wants to amuse himself. See how riled up he can get Stiles. “If you want to take a break from watching out for this guy, and from the same old dick you’ve had for like 20 years? I wouldn’t mind being your distraction. I’m fantastic in bed. There's a lot of room in the back seat. Either way I'm game.”

“You’re vile,” Stiles hisses, shooting him a murderous glance. “Dude, you went to school with my husband, too. Like what makes you think I ever would?!”  
“Because we’re animals. Fucking, eating, sleeping. That’s what we mostly think about.”  
  
It's not that Theo is wrong about the basest needs men have. It's just that Theo is _being_ wrong. There's a difference.  
Stiles' eyes fill with a fierce sparkling and his hands are twitching in his lap. “You cannot be this immoral. I swear to God I’m gonna shoot you. Like, straight up shoot you.”

The angry retort stiffens Theo a bit. A part of him doesn’t want to lose Stiles’ respect... maybe he’s taken it too far. “You wouldn’t do that. You don’t want to assault a fellow agent.”

“I would. And I would enjoy it very much. And I would happily admit to it. Life in prison is so worth it if I can make you shut up about this.”  
Stiles is being a little dramatic. He knows he should just tell Theo to keep his mouth shut and pay attention to the man they’re supposed to be hunting for, but still, Theo’s just being so goddamn _annoying._ (And Stiles is sure he’s doing it on purpose, too. Like he wants to make Stiles squirm).  
If Stiles were single and looking for that crazy kind of fuck, he'd probably totally fall into bed with Theo, and that's hard for him to swallow. But he's neither of those things, thank God, so... 

“You’re a puppy dog, Stiles,” Theo laughs, holding his ribs. “Who are you trying to fool?”  
  
There's so much mischief in those almond eyes boring into him. Stiles is just about to snap at Theo again when a loud bang pops off in the air. It sounds like a gun going off, the noise blaring as it fills up Stiles’ ears from behind. He reaches for his gun, ready to duck his head down when he’s slammed by arms and a body covers him.  
Theo's body.  
  
What the hell?!  
Theo is practically draped on him, his body shielding Stiles from whatever was outside. Stiles isn't sure what he’s more confused about: Theo’s actions or what just transpired.  
Then Stiles hears the screeching of tires. No one else approaches.

“It’s just a car backfiring,” Stiles says with a whisper.

For a long moment they just stare at each other, and longing mops Theo's face.  
“Yeah,” Theo pants, shifting slightly. He sits up a little, one arm still around Stiles, their noses very close. He lets out a loud sigh of relief. “That was crazy.”

Stiles straightens, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. Did that just happen? Did Theo just risk his own life for Stiles?  
There’s not much space between them. Stiles can hear the loud ragged breaths escaping his lips.

“Why… Why did you do that?!” Stiles wonders lowly, his eyes stuck on Theo.

Theo shrugs. “Do what?” He inches off just a little.

“You threw yourself on top of me… Like… Like you didn’t want anything to happen to me… You… You risked your life for me, Theo.”

“You’re my partner. It’s my job," he replies matter-of-factly. "You’d do the same thing for me, wouldn’t you?”

Stiles isn’t able to stop the little snort he lets out. “No. I have kids. And a husband to go home to. Aaannd I kinda don’t like you.”

Theo chuckles, and even though he doesn’t fully believe him his heart does wrench at the idea that Stiles wouldn't protect him. He’s about to turn back to say something further when their perp comes out the front door, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He’s scanning the street as he takes a deep inhale, gaze flitting back and forth. The guys don’t have time to slink down, and he squints in their direction when he sees shadows moving in the car.  
"Shit!" Stiles exclaims.   
“Sorry for this Stiles,” Theo throws himself at him again in a quick-fire reaction.  
  
Stiles lets out a muffled gasp when Theo kisses him. Theo’s kissing him!! His mouth is moist and hot, soft over his, until the sweeps aren’t gentle anymore. There’s passion in it within a minute– the excuse of making it look like they’re just some gay couple out cruising makes Theo kiss Stiles like he’s punishing him, pushing curled hands up under his hoodie and mapping his sides as he explores the recesses of his mouth.  
"Mmm," Theo groans, hardening in his jeans. Stiles tastes so good and feels so silky, like he's made of warm vanilla ice cream.  
Their tongues tangle and the thud in his ears is Stiles panicking they’ll get made, but also guilt and confusion at how quickly everything is escalating.  
  
Stiles lets him do it, he does, and God help him he's trying not to enjoy it but Theo breathes a kiss against his neck and fuck if his skin doesn't prickle over.  
"Theo, Theo please don't..." he begs.  
Through one half-shut eye Stiles keeps watch on the stoop. He needs to keep his senses about him.  
How long is the dude going to smoke for?!  
  
Stiles roves his hands over Theo’s back, trying not to blow their cover but shell-shocked that Theo found a pretext to get his way with him… and a part of him fucking hates to admit Theo’s an amazing kisser.  
After an eternity, Silver seems satisfied they’re just out there to fuck. He flicks his cigarette to add to the other filth already scattered over the sidewalk and heads back inside.

“Motherfucker,” Stiles pushes Theo backwards as soon as he’s out of view, creating some much-needed space between them. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he then rests his flushed face in his hands, letting out a deep exhale.  
God. It was for work, he knows that, but he’ll have to tell Scott about all this and his jealous husband will not be pleased.  
  
“What Stiles?! I had to. He was making us,” Theo’s lips are swollen and slick with their saliva, his cheeks a dusky scarlet. Kissing Stiles was even better than he thought it would be and he doesn't feel at all bad he did it.   
  
“There could have been another way!” Stiless feels like crying. And his pants are tighter… goddammit! _It's just a physical reaction. It's just a physical reaction_ is the mantra running in his mind.  
  
“What could we have done that quickly, Stiles? Me pushing your face to my crotch, pretending you’re giving me a blowjob?”  
“YES, for starters!”  
On second thought, Stiles realizes that would have been much, much worse.  
“Think of it as acting, Stiles,” he jokes.  
“Fuck you, Theo.”  
  
His face rearranges itself into a grin. “Stiles, its not like I planned on the guy coming out and spotting us. Listen, we either keep the ruse going or we’re done. We can’t just move the car now, it’s too suspicious.”  
“What are you talking about?” Stiles leans lightly away from him, afraid of what's he's suggesting next.   
  
“We have to pretend to fuck.”  
 _We have to what now?!_ “Are you seriously suggesting that?”  
“I’ll just blow you.”  
  
Was Theo completely insane? What the fuck was wrong with him?! Jesus Christ, they really should have stayed in New York.  
“What?!”  
“For pretend, Stiles," he offers. "I’m telling you he’s gonna come to the window in a second….”  
“We can’t do this, pretend or not. I don’t love you. I love my husband. I love Scott. I’m sorry, but this can’t happen. Fuck, this is like a repeat of Isaac. I can’t believe this is happening all over again.”

“Isaac? Who’s that? What happened?” Theo rattles off question after question.

Stiles takes a peek at the building, and he’ll be damned if the curtain isn’t moving. Theo guesses from his stricken expression he was right and inches over. “He’s looking over here, isn’t he?”  
“Fuck,” Stiles throws his head against the rest. “Yeah.”  
Theo bends over and lowers his head to Stiles’ crotch. His eyes sparkle as he looks up at him. “I can see you’re hard, Stiles. You liked kissing me.”  
“Shut up! And don’t fucking think of touching me there.”  
  
Theo, smirking, bobs his head up and down, ghosting over Stiles’ bulge with his mouth. “Put your hand on my head like you’re guiding me. And make some faces, act like you’re enjoying it.”  
“You don't know how much I hate you right now.” Stiles weaves a shaky hand through the back of Theo’s head and bites into his lower lip.  
  
“If I really blew you, Stiles, you’d end up marrying me. That’s how good I am.”  
  
Stiles fake moans, closing his eyes, trying not to focus on what's happening below. _What a piece of work._

***

“Thanks for staying back and helping me out tonight,” Scott says as he looks over his shoulder. He eyes Alex up and down, taking in the flushed look on the other man’s face. Is he warm? Is he blushing?  
“I really appreciate your help, Alex. Everyone else took off already, but these supplies won’t unpack themselves. I’m glad I have someone this serious working with me.”

There’s silence. Scott is busy carrying boxes over to a set of shelves. It’s half empty since he’s still getting things together. Alex stands there filling a drawer with syringes, eyes brimming with tenderness. “I’m happy to help Scott,” he murmurs, glancing up at him from under long lashes. “I’m looking forward to working alongside you. It’s gonna be great.”

“So far so good,” Scott grins.  
He means it. It took one day for him to figure out this guy is a hard worker. Alex is crazy smart, shows up early, and he’s kind and easy to work with. He’s the type of person Scott needs on his team. (Alex is also incredibly attractive, which is a plus that Scott tried _not_ to focus on during the day's activities. Certainly better than having to look at someone who's frowning or something, he convinced himself it wouldn't be a distraction).   
  
“Just gotta get these boxes of gloves up here…” Scott groans inwardly as he steps on the stool that gives him a few extra inches of height.  
“Be careful!” Alex warns, having used it earlier in the day and almost falling off.   
  
The shelf Scott needs to reach is high up so he stands on the tips of his toes. His hands shift for a second before he gets settled. The last container is fitted but then two smaller boxes skirting the edge take just seconds to drop right on to Scott, hitting him in the face.  
He flinches at the impact, one foot sliding from the stool. Before he knows it, he’s on the floor, groaning in pain as he lands on his shoulder.

“Scott!” Alex cries out, crossing the room in a heartbeat. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Scott answers, but he does so with clenched teeth and strain creasing his face. “That was stupid of me. It’s a good thing you told me to be careful, too.”  
They both laugh, but Alex isn't convinced the fall didn't do any damage.

“Here, let me help you up.” Alex kneels, his hands on Scott’s waist. His firm mouth curls at the touch, Scott so warm and muscular beneath all those clothes. Alex swallows hard, shifting Scott so he’s sitting up and gently laying a hand on the round part of his shoulder. “Just stay put for a second. You might be hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Scott whispers. “Thank you for the help, though.” He looks up, realising how close Alex is. He also notices how his dark eyes look like they’re… lighting up?  
Scott isn’t sure, but he’s certain there’s a little gleam of something there.  
  
“Take off your coat. Let me check you out.” Alex’s cheeks are a dusky pink. He clears his throat and the strong pulse coursing through him hits Scott's ears.   
“Alex?” Scott asks when his associate removes his white coat. "Is everything okay?"  
“I am a medical doctor, Scott. Remember? You might have bruised your arm.”

"That's not what I mean." Scott’s eyes widen when he hears Alex let out a rather desperate sounding groan in response. It brings Scott back to his senses when he sees Alex's ass hit the floor and slump back.  
“I’m sorry, Scott.”  
“What for Alex?” 

He stares wordlessly at him, his heart filling with a silent sadness. “I have a tiny crush on you, Scott. Ever since we met at your house I haven't stopped thinking about you. Now we've spent some time together and I think you’re amazing and so hot and it’s really difficult to resist not wanting to just reach out and kiss you. I apologize.”

Scott considers him a moment, the way the play of emotions morphs him into a smaller version of himself. Poor guy.   
“I’m _married_.” Scott isn’t trying to be mean. He’d wagered that Alex got a little thing for him by the looks and little compliments he’d given him all day. He doesn’t want to just blatantly reject the other man.  
Alex sighs. “I know, Scott. And I’m no home-wrecker. Plus you're my boss and this job means the world to me so if anything happened it would be beyond inappropriate. I promise to control my emotions, Scott. Please don’t fire me.”

Scott stands up and takes a step towards him, extending his hand. The look on Alex’s face makes his heart hurt a little.

“I won’t fire you. Nothing happened. I mean, we can’t help being attracted to people sometimes, and I’m super flattered. And you’re a great guy, Alex, I mean Jesus Christ if I weren’t married and so in love with Stiles I’d-“

“You don’t have to say that,” Alex pouts, brushing himself off. His left hand rubs at his right arm, a sheepish look clouding his eyes. “But it’s nice of you. I’m sorry, Scott. I promise I’ll keep it in check.”   
Scott just nods, and a look of shame still clear as day bids Alex to study his feet. “Shall we finish unpacking?”  
“Yeah,” Scott’s features soften. He reaches out and squeezes Alex’s arm. "Hey, look at me."   
He does, with two doe eyes.   
“Let it go, Alex. No harm done. We're good, man.”  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are just for fun, to play around with new characters. Our boys are good!  
> Hope you're all doing well and thanks for reading as always.


	12. The Birthday Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the twins' birthday party but not everything goes according to plan.

Sometimes Stiles could slow reel moments, almost as if he were the director behind the camera of his mind’s eye. The movie? His life.  
Several milestones stuck out, in fact: his and Scott’s first kiss, their first time together, the prom.  
Graduation. The first night in Ithaca, and their last. The wedding.

The one that stood out the most was the birth of the twins. It’s something he often went back to as he watched his children grow. He’d never told Scott how terrified he was of becoming a father. Omission about the sleepless nights (even before the babies had given them a reason not to shut eye) seemed easier than analyzing his musings on what kind of role model he’d turn out to be. Whether he’d be as good and caring a parent as Noah and Melissa were.  
What made him feel worse was that Scott seemed to never waver on the matter. Perhaps it was because of his more animalistic nature; the idea of leading a pack wasn’t much different from creating one of his very own. It was something the very human part of Stiles admired in him, especially on days when his reflection in the mirror was hardly perky.  
  
Moving back to Beacon Hills? Well that was another thing on which Scott appeared not to waver. For Stiles, it was proving to be more difficult than they anticipated, even though they both still agreed it’d been the best decision for the family.  
The past two weeks have been tough is all. So much happening at once.  
  
After the incident with Theo, his “partner” (God Stiles hated to use that word) was more or less behaving. Putting to rest his sense of guilt over the kiss was easier once they had received confirmation it had actually helped to not blow their cover. Sure, a fortnight later they’re still sitting on the same shitty building in the same shitty part of Oakland. No sign of their unsub. But at least they’ve gotten a more comfortable car out of the incident.  
The stake-out is taking its toll, though. Stiles works nights, Scott is working days, busy trying to set up the clinic and train new staff. They barely see each other, and when they do, they have kid issues to deal with.  
They’ve had sex twice since and the sexual frustration is definitely beginning to wear them down.  
This is partially why each time Stiles attempts to tell Scott about what had happened with Theo, all he can see is how exhausted and irritable his husband is. There never seems to be an ideal moment to bring something like that up, so Stiles simply doesn’t.  
If omission is lying, then that’s what he’s unintentionally doing. Dark thoughts accompany him on those lonely rides over to Oakland.  
_

It’s the twins’ birthday weekend and Stiles is beyond excited. He loves celebrating the kids’ birthdays almost as much as he adores having an excuse to take a few days off and dote on his family.  
Their faces when he and Scott bring out their birthday cakes are as lit up as the bright candles adorning them. It’s priceless. And while he always tears up a little as he watches his “little ones” make a wish, his heart fills up with a certain joy that he can’t get anywhere else.  
So after a little family breakfast that comprises pancakes, syrup and freshly squeezed orange juice, Stiles and Scott spend the rest of the morning getting everything ready for the party. After a couple apprehensive glances shoot Scott’s way, Stiles relaxes. The strain on his husband’s features has fallen away… perhaps all they needed was a distraction. He’s even been physically affectionate again; soft but gently insistent hands drifting over his chest and ass when the kids are out of the room.  
“I hope we get some time alone together tonight, Stiles,” Scott breathes against his ear, and that’s all it takes for Stiles’ smile to turn up a notch.

Prep continues into the late morning, Stiles decorating the fence and table in the backyard with balloons and streamers, the entire space turning into a colorful wonderland. In the meantime, Scott has readied the barbeque for lunch, and that’s when the guests slowly roll in.

Noah and Melissa are the first adults to turn up who will actually stay, with the twins by their side. Claudio and Cailen fist-bump their half-brother when he ushers them in.  
“Hey Stiles,” Claudio is the first to hand him a beautifully wrapped present. “This one’s for Mati. She around?”  
Children and presents are like magnets, and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their uncles and run inside, screaming as they bolt for the patio door.  
“No running!” Stiles’ voice fades when he realizes it’s no use. Today’s about them, and they’re so hyped up that vague discipline is futile.  
“Hey you two! Someone here turning 9??” Cailen scoops up Matthew into his muscular arms.  
  
The boys are very handsome, and already a hit at Beacon Hills High with girls and boys alike. Dark in complexion and inky hair that barely grazes their shoulders, probably their most attractive feature is the contrast. Piercing green eyes inherited from Noah are like laser points when their focus shifts. Add to that captivating white-toothed grins and kind natures, they’re born heartthrobs.  
Both brothers also play sports, and it shows on their toned physiques. Claudio plays lacrosse, having made varsity, and Cailen has been quite the discovery on the basketball court. It makes Stiles smile reminiscently despite himself, musing how different he was from them when he was their age. He could barely get through Coach’s wind sprints without throwing up on the field (and having Scott there to walk him to the bathroom countless times was also an acceptable excuse to hang on his powerful arms).  
God, high school was so long ago, he thinks. Sometimes Stiles misses the simplicity of it, though it was everything but simple if he sat down with pen to paper. Who could forget all the drama that transpired, not just in town but also in his relationship? Isaac and Danny spring to mind, and he shakes his head to clear those cobwebs.

“Come on, munchkins, show us how many presents you have already!” The brothers nudge the kids back outside, returning to the chaos of giggling children wreaking havoc on Stiles’ grass.  
“Where’s Alessia?” Stiles enquires, noting his sister’s absence. “She not feeling well?”  
“No, sweetheart,” Melissa tilts her head, some of her sooty curls cascading over her shoulders. Fingers reach out to touch his forearm. “She’s attending her best friend’s party, but she sends her love. If you want to have the twins over by us tomorrow, I’m sure she’d love to tell them happy birthday in person.”  
“Yeah, okay,” Stiles nods. Some time alone with Scott? Maybe his parents could take them home after the party today…  
Melissa wanders off to the kitchen a second later when she spots Scott appear from the pantry with plastic cups and plates in tow.  
“Hey Mom!”

Squeals direct Stiles’ and Noah’s attention back outside to the sight of Cailen and Claudio chasing the kids and their friends around the backyard with water guns. They all look like they’re having a blast.   
“They take after you,” Noah snorts, his hand clasped around Stiles’ bicep, giving it a little squeeze. “And I mean that in the worst way possible.”  
The words make Stiles chortle, but then he wraps his arms around his dad, giving the man a bear hug. “I swear I don’t know why Scott insisted I donate. I told him not to expect athletes or quiet children.”  
“Well, I’m sure if he really wanted to he would have insisted to be the donor,” Noah pulls off, grabbing Stiles by the shoulders. “I think he’s so in love with you, Stiles, he’s dreamed of other mini-Stiles around, too. It’s very sweet.”  
Casting a glance to the kitchen where Melissa and Scott are getting some snacks ready, his cheeks flush slightly.  
“Yeah, I think you’re right, Dad. I’m lucky.”  
A small flame of guilt erupts in his belly then… work or not, he feels bad that his lips had to touch another man’s. He only ever wants to be Scott’s… he’s known that most of his life.  
“You really are, son. You really are.”  
_

It doesn’t take long for all the guests to pile into the house – mostly the twins’ friends from school and a few other kids from the neighbourhood.  
Now Stiles is standing back, enjoying a moment of peace. His side presses into the sliding door that leads to the yard, watching the adults mill around with cocktails and finger food while the kids sit at the streamer covered table. Heads are thrown back in laughter, and Stiles hums at the sound.  
It’s perfect. His life is… perfect.  
The knock at the door pulls him away from the scene. Someone else must have turned up, but Stiles is sure everyone who sent an Rsvp has arrived. He makes for the door and smiles when he sees that Scott has beaten him to it.  
“I thought everyone had already shown up,” Scott says, his hand on the doorknob.  
“Yeah, same. Guess they forgot to Rsvp?” Stiles shrugs. “There’s enough food for more people, so we’re good.”  
Scott nods and the door creaks open. Stiles just about passes out when he sees two people standing before him.  
Theo is there, clasping two little purple presents. Alex Karev shifts from one foot to the other next to him –two presents in his hands as well.  
“Oh God,” Scott says with a sharp hiss, having completely forgotten that he’d invited Alex.  
  
“Alex… and Theo.” Stiles’ fists clench. Did the names come out as a snarl?   
“Hi,” it’s barely above a whisper, then Scott clears his throat. “You’re both… You’re both here. What a lovely surprise. I didn’t know you had invited Theo Stiles.”  
  
 _Can say the same of Alex_ Stiles scoffs. “I didn’t,” he mutters, bending his head so their gazes meet squarely. “Why would I do that?”  
“Theo. Why are you here?” Scott asks through gritted teeth. Perhaps not the most polite way to greet guests… but this is THEO.  
  
Stiles’ heart turns over in response. Panic attack arriving in 3, 2, and… Scott looks like he’s about to get upset… and that’s when Stiles blabs it out.  
“I.. I JUST remembered I had invited him,” Stiles lies. “Slipped my mind. Right, Theo?”  
Two almond eyes sparkling like polished jades squint back at him. “Right,” Theo says too quickly. “You told me, when was it? A couple nights ago.”

Stiles lets out a sheepish laugh, giving Theo a quick once over.  
Fucking Theo. Why is he always making him lie to Scott?!  
“I see.” Scott frowns. A swooping gesture of his arm and Scott reluctantly steps back. “Well, come on in.”  
“Thanks,” Theo murmurs, his manicured eyebrows raised. Alex just stands on the doorstep waiting to be told to come inside.  
“Alex, please, come in,” Stiles and Scott say at the same time. Cold eyes snipe at Stiles and he swallows hard.  
“We both turned up at the same time,” is Alex’s reply. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to explain, but the whole situation is awkward and he’s very tempted to just leave the gifts and cross back over to his house.  
  
Stiles is about to say something, mouth agape, when Matilda appears at his side. She’s tugging at the bottom of Stiles’ shirt and asks him when she and her friends can eat her cake. But then her eyes widen when she sees Theo and Alex with their presents in hand.  
  
“Ooh,” she says with a brief smile, her hands behind her back. “Hi.”  
“Hi,” grins Theo, lowering himself to face her as he delivers her gift. “This is for you. Happy birthday, Matilda. I work with your dad. He told me it was your and your brother’s birthday today.”  
Stiles doesn’t honestly remember doing that, which is why he was so shocked at Theo showing up, but they get so tired on those stakeouts who knows what the hell he’s said.  
Mati grabs the present with her tiny fingers and jumps up and down. “Thank you!”  
“And I work with your other dad,” Alex chimes in, not one to be any less charming. “He let me know about today,” he beams, holding his out for her. “Here you go. Happy birthday. I hope you like it.”  
“Ooh, thank you.” Two cinnamon eyes blink up at her dads. “Can I go open them up outside with my friends? Can I, can I?”  
“You will,” Scott nods. “But we’re opening gifts after the cake, okay? Be patient a little longer. Go put them on the table with the others, please.”  
Stiles wonders as he watches her dash outside if he can get away with burning the men's presents and burying them in the backyard later tonight. How far could he punt Alex's???  
  
“How is the stakeout going,” Scott sighs, not knowing how to fill the now uncomfortable silence.  
“Thanks for getting the kids something,” Stiles says to Alex. “You didn’t have to do that.”  
“Nah, it’s cool,” Alex replies as he hands over Matthew’s. “This is for your boy.”  
His hands shove into his jeans pockets a moment later. “What kind of neighbor would I be if I missed their birthday?”  
Stiles wonders why he cares so much – and then Theo opens his goddamn mouth.  
“Hey,” delivering his remaining gift to Scott, Theo puts out his hand. “No hard feelings about that night, huh?”

“What night?” Scott snaps, a probing query coming into his eyes. Amusement takes over Theo’s face.  
Oh holy God! Stiles spears him with fury.  
Fuck. What is wrong with Theo?! Why didn’t he ask if he’d told Scott?!  
“What happened?” wonders Scott, his massive arms crossed over his chest.

Stiles takes a deep breath, trying to steady the sudden wave of panic filling him. Speaking before Theo does, Stiles laughs it off, and unfortunately for him, it’s not believable. “Nothing. Just another boring stake out. The most boring one I’ve ever been on. Nothing happened. The definition of uneventful and anti-climactic. You should have seen it! You would have fallen asleep. Let me tell you something, if you ever have trouble sleeping, just come on a stake out with me and Theo and you will fall asleep in minutes. Seconds even!”

Stiles knows he’s rambling, just like he was rambling when the same shit had happened with Isaac. But he doesn’t really want to go into this with Alex standing there looking curious, smug, and like such a snack!  
Staring forward, brow furrowed, Scott is officially suspicious. And fucking Theo looks like the most amused man on the planet.  
“Stake outs, am I right?” Stiles tries again. Once more – no one laughs. The smirk painting Theo’s face speaks libraries.  
“You make them sound like such a bore, Stiles… Ours was a lot more fun…” Theo croons, his voice low.  
“What the hell is that supposed to mean…?”  
Stiles does his best to be reassuring, sending eye dart after eye dart towards Theo’s heart. Maybe he’ll drop dead. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Totally nothing, babe.”  
That’s when Alex clears his throat. “Scott, maybe I should go. I…”  
Even in the dark of night, Stiles would pick up on the message in Alex’s tone. He’s been studying Scott freely, outwardly, this entire time. It’s part of Stiles’ job to notice every flit of emotion- even if he’s distracted by something else.  
Stiles’ own eyes narrow, and Scott suddenly blushing is not reassuring at the least. His hand rubs at the back of his head.  
Alex mumbles something under his breath, staring down at the floor.  
  
“Why go, Alex?” Stiles asks in a huff. “Theo and I have nothing to talk about. It’s all for work.”  
“Right. Just… work stuff…” Theo flushes, his cheeks a dusky pink. The memory of Stiles’ taste hits him as if it were a minute after the kiss and…  
“If it’s work stuff, then you can say it in front of me,” Scott spits. “What happened that night? What night? What’s this about?”  
  
The silence that ensues makes Scott cough and shake his head. “You know what? Whatever it is I’m already thinking the worst and I don’t want to spoil my children’s birthdays by getting into a fight with you, Theo. So just fucking tell me what happened before I get really pissed.”  
“Scott, it’s nothing, okay?” Stiles pleads, wishing he could wrap his hands around Theo’s creamy throat. “Why are you being so weird right now?”  
  
“I’m being weird?” Scott places a hand on his chest. “What about you? You’ve been acting all fidgety since Theo walked into the house. What happened on your little stake out?”  
It’s over, Stiles thinks. Better or worse, the ruse was pathetic at best. Sighing loudly, Stiles grabs Scott’s hand, pulling him over to the living room so they are out of earshot.  
“We’ll be right back,” Stiles calls over his shoulder, a tremolo to his voice.

They finally have some privacy in the living room, and Stiles lets out a long, loud exhale.  
He doesn’t want to hurt Scott, but he doesn’t want to keep that kiss to himself either. Scott has a right to know. Why the hell he wasn’t forthcoming in the first place…  
“The other night… The stake out… Theo did something he shouldn’t have…”  
“What happened?” Scott thrusts his chin forward, his granite eyes locked with Stiles’.  
“What did he do to you?”  
  
Stiles can’t even face Scott as he says it. He’s too ashamed.  
“He kissed me,” he murmurs. “And I kissed him back, but only for a second. It barely lasted, Scott, I swear. But then we had to continue. We were about to get made… the spot we’re watching is known to be a kind of gay lover’s lane. We needed to do something drastic because our unsub’s brother came out for a smoke and spotted us and… so it didn’t look like we were cops sitting on a building we made out. I love you, baby, and I love the kids and I want us to be together forever. I don’t want this kiss to ruin us. To ruin what we have. I hope you won’t let it, but I understand if you’re mad.”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Scott says slowly, dragging each word out. His hands are on Stiles’ and he inches him closer.  
Long lashes blink, a look of utter contrition twisting Stiles’ face. “You’ve been so stressed. And with me working nights we never see each other and it seems lately all we ever do is talk about the kids’ stuff. Honestly, Scott, it meant nothing to me and he’s been behaving since so I thought…”  
“You thought you could just keep it from me. This is like Isaac all over again.” The pause is for effect and it stings. So much so that Stiles winces. “I’m not mad, Stiles, I’m just disappointed you didn’t come to me with this sooner. That you feel you can’t tell me things like this.”  
“I don’t want to ruin anything, Scott.”  
  
“That could never ruin us. Ever. Our love… What we have. No, there’s no way that you having to make out with that fucker to save your case could ruin us. But you need to trust me enough to tell me these things. People get attracted to each other, shit like this happens. If you tell me it meant nothing to you, I believe you. But no more dishonesty. No more omissions. That’s what chips away at a marriage, worse than any kiss.”  
  
“You aren’t mad?” pouts Stiles.  
  
Scott shuts his eyes, wagging his head for a second. “I’m pissed. At him, though. Not at you. I could never be mad at you. I want to go back out there and beat his ass, and I would if this wasn’t a literal children’s birthday party.”  
  
Snorting, Stiles leans forward, giving Scott a peck on the lips. “Thank you for being so understanding.”  
“You don’t have to thank me for that. And… I don’t really have a right to be mad at you when something similar happened to me.”  
  
Stiles tilts his head at that. ALEX!  
“What does that mean? What… What are you saying…?”  
  
A hand raised in the air to clasp over Stiles’ arm does little to reassure Stiles.  
“The reason I reacted so hotly… It’s ‘cause…Alex told me he has a crush on me. I suppose that’s no state secret, he isn’t great at hiding it. But I put some distance between us the second I realised what was going on. Told him all we could ever have is a professional relationship. He promised me he’d never act on it and backed off. I invited him to the party because he’s my colleague and our neighbor, and I guess I was trying to be nice, I don’t know. But it’s not because I’m looking for an excuse to spend time with him. God knows 10-12-hour shifts at the clinic are plenty.”  
More than one emotion hits Stiles. There’s anger and jealousy, for starters. But also relief. He knows Scott would never lie to him about stuff like this, and body language speaks truth. Scott’s not lying.  
  
“He’s terrible at hiding it,” Stiles finally states. “Even now he was undressing you with his eyes. But I can’t blame him.”  
A faint smile accompanies Scott’s sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. No more secrets, okay?”  
“Why don’t we call it even, Scott. Or do you want to go out there and kiss Alex just to make things square?”  
No chance in hell Stiles would let him, but it’s something he feels he needs to say.

“No… you know I don’t want that. I only want you. And I want for this party to end well, with two happy sugar-hyper children getting to open their presents without angry parents in the room:”  
Stiles nods. “You got it. By the way, Mom and Dad offered to take the kids tomorrow. I’m thinking of sending those two excitables home with them right after the party. We’ll go there and have brunch together tomorrow and collect them. Will finally give us some time alone.”

He wraps his arms around Scott, resting his face in Scott’s neck. “I miss you. I miss him.”   
People are looking inside, so Scott kisses the top of Stiles’ head, avoiding some lewd touch he would have definitely done had they been alone.  
“Sounds like a plan,” Scott murmurs.  
“I love you. I just love you so much. And I hate Alex.”  
  
Scott chuckles at that. “That’s good because I hate Theo. We both have some not-so-secret admirers, huh?”  
“I don’t get it. Why won’t people leave us alone? It’s so annoying, it’s just like high school all over again,” Stiles says, craning his neck so he’s able to look at Scott. “We’re just too hot, Scott. We’re too hot.”  
“That we are.”  
“Back to the party?” Stiles suggests.  
“Back to the party.”

“Hey,” Stiles perks up as they head towards the two men they left standing awkwardly in the foyer. “I’ve got a genius idea. What if we set Theo up with Alex?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the story. Who knows, never say never... one day I may add chapters again. For now I'm closing this here.  
> I hope you're all doing well and staying safe.  
> thanks for the support on this story, you've been great. I’m going to finish up a couple wips I have in here and unfortunately I won’t be writing Teen Wolf anymore.  
> It’s been a great ride, though.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.   
> Stay safe!


End file.
